


Tearing

by acme146



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergence - Post-Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Character Death, Dealing With Trauma, Department of Mysteries, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Harry Potter Next Generation, Healing, Multi, Reconciliation, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Redeemed Dudley Dursley, Resurrections, Scorbus Wedding, Surprise Guest Stars, The Deathly Hallows, Wedding, Wedding at Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 52,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: On the evening of Lily Luna's eighteenth birthday, an Unspeakable enters the Death Room. With a few spells, the Veil between Life and Death is torn. But what does this mean for the living? For the dead? And how do peacocks, knitting, wordplay, brooms and Patronuses fit into all of this?





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the plotty story of the Fading Scars verse! This will update every three days (I have reminders set this time), and it begins after the vast majority of the Fading Scars canon to date, so it's best to read the other stories first.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme

She worked late at least once a week. No one would notice.

She went into the Spinning Room and spoke one word. “Death.”

The room stop spinning and a door swung open. It would always open when you knew what you wanted.

Part of her wondered if the Room knew, somehow, what was in her heart. What she had learned two months ago.

It didn’t matter. That would change soon, and change for good.

She walked in, trembling in the sudden chill. The room was nearly empty, other than an arch in the centre of the room. The cloth waved back and forth. It was utterly silent.

She came closer, gripping her wand tightly. It would be so easy. So, so, easy. And finally, she would be free from the burden on her shoulders.

When she was right in front of the Veil, she took a minute. Took a deep breath. It would be fine. Maybe she’d even be a hero!

The one who conquered death…

She slashed her wand through the air, and the curtain ripped. Half of it drifted to the ground.

The rest of the cuts came easier, her confidence growing as the Veil shredded to pieces in front of her. Finally the arch stood empty, but she wasn’t done.

Now she pointed her wand at the arch itself. “Bombarda!”

Her voice echoed in the quiet room, but the arch merely shuddered.

Damn.

She cast the spell again and again, but nothing budged.

Curious, she tried a different spell. “Reducto!”

That one did more damage. A crack appeared in the arch’s keystone, and encouraged she continued to cast it. More cracks appeared, and soon the arch seemed to vibrate as it held itself together.

One more “REDUCTO!”, screamed at the top of her lungs, and the arch collapsed into a heap of dust.

She walked over, hoping, hoping…

She cried out in delight when she saw the fading runes on the floor. That meant that it had worked.

She was safe.

Without looking back, she left the room.


	2. A Very Merry Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Lily Luna's eighteenth birthday, and Harry couldn't be more proud of the crowd around the table.

“Happy birthday, Lily!” Danny sang, as he carried the enormous chocolate cake out.

Mrs. Weasley and Ron followed behind him, both anxiously watching the cake, ready to cast a spell if necessary, but it was fine. Danny made it to his girlfriend with the cake he’d prepared so carefully, making sure Alice didn’t get anywhere near the bowl.

Harry beamed as he stood beside his daughter. Lily was eighteen now, and while that did give his heart a bit of a wrench it was totally worth it to see her grown into such a wonderful woman. With three wonderful partners, a job at Parvati and Dean’s shelter preparing for the children’s home, and surrounded by family who loved her…he couldn’t be prouder.

She’d always be his little girl, though.

Ginny squeezed his hand. There was more gray in her hair than before, but her curls were as bright as ever.

Lily’s birthday was in early June, and for once the whole family had been able to make it; even Lorcan and Lysander had come down from Hogwarts. Draco and Astoria had brought the birthday girl plans for a cottage set up for her and her partners, Cho sent a lily embroidered workout shirt, and Trouble Inc. (Freddie, Rose, Scorpius and Al) had promised huge fireworks later on.

The only person who couldn’t make it was Audrey. Percy was there, and made excuses for his wife. “She’s coming,” he promised. “She wants to finish up some work at the office. She is the Minister, after all.”

Trust Percy to find someone who was even more dedicated than he was.

“Dad, come and cut the cake!” Lily called.

Harry laughed and moved towards the table. “Lily, you’re a big girl now. I don’t have to cut the cake.”

“I know, but you can still do it.”

Harry picked up the big cake knife. It had survived all the years since his and Ginny’s wedding, a gift from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He cut into the cake, feeling the familiar weight. Twenty-five years of marriage led to this chocolate cake. It was amazing.

Then Neville caused a distraction by turning into a large canary.

“For Merlin’s sake, George!” Angelina snapped.

George was doubled over laughing. “It wasn’t me!” He pointed at his son, who was grinning.

Neville molted a second later. “I ought to put you in detention,” he jgrowled at Freddie.

“I’m more than graduated, Headmaster,” Freddie replied, holding Jean-George on his hip. He handed Neville the second slice of cake. “Here.”

            Neville accepted the peace offering, and the talk soon turned to passing around cake, fetching tea and coffee, and finding a seat around the table once again.

            Harry held hands with Ginny, which made it difficult but not impossible to eat their cake, and they just watched their family eat and talk and argue with each other.

            “Do you reckon we should wait for Audrey to do presents?” Ginny murmured.

            “Lor and Lys’ present might get restless.” The boys had brought their god-sister a cross between a Pigmy Puff and a Kneazle, and it had already pushed its terrarium down the hall once. “Plus I think Teddy wants to take Estelle and the twins home.”

            Alcmene and Sol were just under two, and they were in the ‘sugar-and-late-nights-make-us-stroppy’ phase. 

            “We’ll give her another ten minutes and then we’ll see,” Ginny decided. “Everyone’s still eating, anyways.”

            “Oh, look,” Harry said, surprised. The talk in the room died down as a Patronus—a graceful screech owl—swooped in and landed on Percy’s shoulder.

            “Why’s Audrey sent a Patronus?” Ginny asked. “We know she’s not ready to—”

            Then she stopped, because the screech owl opened its mouth, and Audrey’s voice came out.

            _“The Veil has been shredded. The Arch of Death is broken.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I am indeed giving you two cliffhangers in a row. You might want to get used to that :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	3. Nervous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and the others try to absorb the news, as they watch their parents try to cope.

Lily Luna stared at her aunt’s Patronus until it faded away. What did that mean?

Then she remembered the story, one her father had so much trouble telling.

“The Veil?” she whispered.

Her father was on his feet, still holding her mother’s hand. “Percy,” he said, and his voice was shaking, “can you call Audrey?”

“Right, of course.” Uncle Percy pulled out his mirror. “Audrey Weasley.”

He set the mirror down. Lily managed to squeeze in close enough to see her aunt’s face.

“Audrey, what’s going on?”

“I don’t know,” her aunt replied. “The Head Unspeakable came to get me, and told me what happened. The Veil is in pieces, Percy, and the Arch is just…gone.”

“Right. Is she still there?” Dad asked.

“Yes. There’s a few more around. Apparently they felt it when it broke.”

Dad nodded. “Keep them there, I can—”

“Hold on, Harry.” Teddy cut in. “You’re not an Auror anymore. I can handle this.” He kissed Victoire’s cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

            “Has anything else broken?” Percy asked, gripping the mirror tightly.

            “We don’t know. But nothing seems to have gone wrong yet. The Ministry wards are holding, and the one Unspeakable who’s talking any sense thinks that we shouldn’t be worried about anything happening from the Veil.”

            “Get the rest of them to talk some sense, then. I’ll come and help.” Percy stood up. “Teddy, you and I can go together.” Then he stopped, stricken. “Lily, I’m sorry.”

            “Don’t be stupid,” Lily replied. Leila had her arm around her waist, which made it easier to say the next part. “It’s just the evening. This sounds like it could be really bad. You need to go.”

            “We’ll keep in touch,” Uncle Percy promised. He slung an arm around her shoulders for a moment, pressed a quick kiss to her head. “Maybe we can sort this out in time for presents tonight.”

            Lily was grateful for the maybe. She hated being lied to.

            When Teddy and Uncle Percy were gone, Mum clapped her hands. “We might as well move everybody into the drawing room. Hermione, mind helping me clean up?”

            Lily allowed herself to be pulled into the drawing room. She and her partners sat in their familiar formation—Tilly and Leila sitting with their heads together, and Danny and Lily on their laps. Sometimes Al would tease Lily about that, to which Lily would retort that at least she didn’t have a bit of an exhibitionist kink (which made Dad blush like mad), but tonight he was quiet. They were all quiet. It was frightening, actually, sitting in a room with almost fifty people when no one was making a sound.

            Well, except for the twins. They were babbling to each other quietly. Estelle was curled up against her mother’s legs, and even she wasn’t her usual cheerful self.

            “For Merlin’s sake!” Lou exploded. “What the hell is going on? What does this mean?”

            It was like a Silencing Spell had been lifting, and everyone was asking questions at once.

            Mum came back into the room with Aunt Hermione. “Oi!” she shouted. “That’s enough!”

            “What’s happening, Mum?” Lily asked. “What’s so bad about this? You’re all…really nervous.”

            Well, nervous wasn’t the right word, but it was the one the kids had come up with.

            Talking about the past with their parents had never been easy for any of them. During family get togethers, the kids would all pass on any new information they’d learned—Nat’s book had been really helpful, once it was written. Nobody wanted those questions to be asked over and over, so they pieced together the stories for themselves.

            And they pieced together their parents’ reactions. They took Nicky’s story of her mother weeping softly late at night, Freddie and Roxy’s dad’s trailing off sometimes in the middle of a sentence as if waiting for someone to finish it…Uncle Ron’s anger, Uncle Percy’s guilt, Aunt Hermione’s pain…and that strange, empty look that the adults all got. That look that told them that the life they lived, full of love and kindness, family and home…it might not have been. It could have been gone, just like that. And there were already too many pieces missing.

            There was no one word for so many different reactions, no way to address their parents’ trauma. So they came up with a word that seemed to work for their parents and for them—nervous. They were ‘nervous’ when the news played sometimes, ‘nervous’ when they had to explain another part of history… ‘nervous’ when someone stopped them on the street. Even if the stranger just said ‘thank you’, they were nervous.

            And now Lily understood why it actually worked as a description. Because her family did indeed look nervous, as if they’d never really stopped looking over their shoulders. And now something was there.

            “The Veil is in the Department of Mysteries,” Dad started. “It’s there—I believe—so that the Unspeakables can study death. As you know my—my godfather, Sirius, he was killed passing through it. I haven’t learned much about it since.”

            Lily shivered.

            “Fiona told me a little about it,” Molly offered. She was sitting with Lucy. “They’re allowed to talk about what they learn in first year training. The Veil is the closest point of contact to the world of the dead that can exist in the world of the living.”

            “So what does it mean, now that it’s gone?” Uncle Ron asked.

            “I hope someone can answer that,” Dad said grimly. “It’ll go a long way towards finding out who did it in the first place. It’s not the easiest thing in the world to get down there, so someone wanted that.”

            “Would it be an Unspeakable?” That was Uncle George. “Surely that would narrow it down considerably.”

            “Starting with the person who discovered the problem,” Dad agreed. He shifted. “But then again—”

            “Alright, Harry.”  Mum put a hand on his arm. “It’s bizarre, I know it is. But we’re just going to have to wait. Why don’t we get the little ones to bed.”

            That made the twins shoot straight up.

            “No bed!” Alcmene protested. “Give Li-lu pwesent!”

            Sol nodded emphatically. “Pwesent!”

            Lily forced a smile, and picked the two kids up. “Alright, we’ll have presents, then.” She looked at the adults. “You know, you don’t have to pretend to be calm. You’re worried. Let’s do this without pretending, alright?”

            They agreed, and Lily started opening her presents. She was delighted by the Kneazpuff, which she immediately named Eris (“good name,” Victoire muttered). She got lovely clothes and books, a box of supplies from WWW, and the last box had a book embossed with a Lily. Opening it, she read the first page aloud,

            _To Our Daughter,_

_As you embark on this journey of caring for children,_

_Take with you this collection of wisdom._

_We learned it all from you and your brothers._

_You can always call on us for help._

_Lots of Love,_

_Mum and Dad_

Lily flipped through the pages, grinning as she did. “Negotiation Tips?” she asked.

            “Outright bribery is not encouraged, remember,” her mother said. “But it is an option.”

            “Apparently not when I do it,” Dad muttered.

            “Harry, giving our five year old son an entire bar of chocolate right before bed is not bribery, it’s surrender.”

            Lily laughed. “Thank you all,” she said. “This will come in handy.”

            The room grew quiet again.

            “What does everyone need to do?” Lily asked. “To stop worrying, I mean.”

            “I think I’d better take my meds, actually.” Freddie raised his wand, but Pierre stopped him. “I have them, _cher_.” He put the bottle in Freddie’s left hand, and Rita put a glass of water in his right.

            “I think I might start going through the library here,” Aunt Hermione said. “I know they’ve got information at the Ministry, but…”

            Everyone was starting to get up now. Lily leaned back in Tilly’s arms. “I really hope someone comes back soon,” she whispered. “I can’t stand it—everyone’s so nervous, but we don’t even know _why_.”

            Danny was playing with her hair. “Bad things happen in places like that when people aren’t paying attention. I think they’re just afraid that’s what happened this time.”

            “C’mon Lils, close your eyes,” Tilly urged. “Try and get a little sleep.”

            Lily obeyed. She never fully slept, there was too much noise in the house. But she dozed enough that she didn’t feel Leila Summon a blanket onto them all, and she was startled when there was a ‘pop’ and Teddy appeared.

            Dad went to him right away. “What’s happened?”

            Teddy looked weary and confused. Lily looked at her watch. It was nearly midnight, over five hours since Teddy and Uncle Percy had left. Blinking slowly, she looked around. Estelle and the twins were curled up with Kitty on the couch, and Nat sat next to them, fast asleep. The rest of the room was empty, but she could still hear the voices of her family throughout the house.

            “Everyone’s calmed down somewhat, but it’s still a madhouse there.” Teddy sat down across from Lily. “The Unspeakables were talking in circles for at least an hour, trying to figure out what they could tell us and what they couldn’t. Finally one of them—Ivy, I think? She said they’d better explain. Apparently the Veil has been there longer than there’s been records in the Ministry. There’s one in every country with wizards, but they’re all the same copy. Please don’t ask me to explain, it makes no bloody sense. But they’ve checked with their counterparts, and their Veils are gone too.”

            “So what does that mean?” Aunt Hermione asked.

            Teddy looked even more troubled. “That part was hard to understand too. And I’m not sure that they understand it fully, either. But it seems to be that the door to death is closed now. People can’t die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now what else could that possibly mean, hm?   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	4. Burning Coals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teddy finds out more about this new situation, and he discovers a frightening possibility.

“Can’t…die? What do you mean?” Harry was staring at him, and Teddy didn’t blame him. His mind was still whirling with that news.

“Well, Muggles still can. They have a different way to die. But wizards have to go through the Arch, and it’s gone now.”

Victoire came over and put her hand in his. “Cherie, how do they know this?”

“That’s actually something we can check.” Teddy looked at his godfather. “Could you ask Phineas to go to Hogwarts and find Sir Nicholas? Or any ghost that’s willing to come here?”

Harry nodded. Lips pressed together, he left the room.

Phineas Nigellus had become an odd part of the family. He mostly sulked in the painting at Hogwarts, but every so often he would move through the paintings Harry and Ginny collected over the years. Teddy liked him, as uppity as he was. The worst of his prejudice had rubbed off years ago, and he’d actually given Teddy some advice when he was panicking about having twins.

“Daddy?”

Teddy looked down. Sol was awake, his little arms up. Teddy scooped up his son. “Hello sweetheart,” he whispered.

“Go home?” Sol asked.

“Soon,” Teddy promised. He knew he would be. Victoire and the kids needed to sleep in their own beds, and he was knackered. Whether he would sleep, however, was up in the air.

Harry came back in, his eyes worried. “Phineas couldn’t persuade anyone to come—the ghosts are terrified. Even Sir Nicholas won’t come, but he confirmed what you said, Teddy. He talked to Phineas through the painting. What did the Unspeakables tell you?”

Teddy rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Essentially, there are ‘portals’ to the land of the dead. Muggles have many, because they have to go through. But since wizards can choose to remain behind, and there aren’t as many of us, we only need the one portal, and it has very few entrances.”

“How the hell did they figure that out?” Molly asked.

            “Someone kept poisoning themselves to death and being revived,” Teddy said bluntly. He swallowed when he saw Sol’s eyes, wide and innocent. “Vic—sorry, could you?”

            Victoire took Sol from him. She was already holding Alcmene, and Estelle followed her out, clinging to her mother’s hand. Teddy’s heart ached.

            Harry put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, Teddy. This must be confusing as all hell.”

            “You haven’t heard the weirdest bit.” Teddy took a deep breath. He could feel every eye in the room on him. “The Veil apparently doesn’t look like a veil on the other side. It’s more of a door. They know that from ghosts, too.”

            Harry nodded. “That’s what Sir Nicholas said. They can choose to go through it or not.”

            “And those who do…well, they must open the door and go through. But now the Veil’s gone, which means the door might be gone too.”

            “So no one can die? Or does everyone become a ghost now?”

            Neville cleared his throat. “I just spoke to Hannah. There are patients at St. Mungo’s who were expected to die soon, and they’re just…not. Their bodies are shutting down, there’s nothing that medicine can do for them. But they are not going to die.”

            “So they’re stuck ill forever?” Teddy asked. That sounded horrible.

            “They’re stuck until we sort all of this out,” Neville confirmed. “And we better do that quickly.”

****

            Teddy forced himself to sleep six hours before he Apparated back to the Ministry. He stopped at his desk just long enough to grab his commonplace book (waterproof, fireproof, and corrected his messy writing)—and started to head downstairs.

            He was stopped by the Head of the Department.

            “Where are you going, Lupin?”

            Teddy grinned as he turned. Susan Bones had transferred to the Auror division only a few years ago, but her work with her wife Lavender in Wales had given her a tremendous amount of experience both in dealing with law enforcement and with dealing with paperwork, so when Harry retired she’d taken over the Department., making the commute daily to go home to Wales. She’d won the respect of even the oldest Aurors by planning their missions with their input, learning how the fieldwork went even as she sat behind a desk. “I’ve done my fieldwork,” she always said, “but it was a different job. Tell me what you need.”   

            “Hullo, Bones. I’m just going to the Department of Mysteries.”

            “I’m afraid something else has come up,” Susan said. She handed Teddy a file.

            Teddy flipped through it. “A murder? But no one can—”

            “Well, it’s a murder for all intents and purposes.” Susan shook her head. “I don’t know how else to file it. The victim is dying right now, and they should be dead. That’s what happens with that curse at that age. With that many blows—”

            She cut herself off when Teddy gasped. He couldn’t help it.

            The victim wasn’t someone he knew—an older man, Eric Finch—but he knew the curse very well.

            It was the curse that had killed his father.

            Dolohov’s Fire, named for the damned Death Eater that invented it, was purple flames that caused the targeted organs to seize up. The more layers of fire, the deeper the damage went. Aunt Hermione and Harry had both survived because they’d been hit with four.

            His father had died from six. So had Fabian and Gideon Prewett, Grandma Molly’s brothers.

            “Dolohov,” Teddy growled.

            “Teddy, Dolohov’s dead.”

            “I know, but—there’s six layers. Dolohov always did six.” Teddy kept looking through the file, and he was struck by a horrible thought. “Eric is a Muggle.”

            “No, he’s just living as one. He’s my friend Justin’s cousin.” There was a deep sadness in Susan’s eyes. 

            “So why would a wizard go after him? Unless—”

            Unless he was going after the family of the wizard that killed him.

            “Didn’t Justin kill Dolohov?”

            “It wasn’t murder,” Susan said. “I was in that fight—Justin was helping the statues, and one jumped on Dolohov to protect him; crushed him in moment.” Then she went pale. “You can’t think—you don’t think—”

            “I need to go to the Department of Mysteries, Bones.”

            Susan pointed behind her. “They’re interviewing one of the Unspeakables in there.”

            Teddy moved without a word. He would have reassured her with at least a handshake, but he had no reassurance to give. A dull terror was starting to build.

            The Unspeakable jumped when he entered the room. She was pale and shaking.

            And Teddy recognized her.

            “Fiona?”

            She burst into tears, and Teddy crouched beside her, reaching over the wheels of her chair to hug her. “It’s okay, Fiona,” he soothed. “No one thinks you have anything to do with this.”

            A dry cough alerted him to exactly who was in the room.

            “Smith,” Teddy sighed.

            Alexander Smith (always _Alexander)_ had never been one of Teddy’s favourite people. He was a Dumbledore’s Army baby, Zachariah Smith’s son, and in his case he was very like his father. They’d clashed at school when Teddy was Head Boy and Smith was a first year, and Teddy loathed the day they welcomed the newest Auror into their ranks.

            “Sorry, Smith,” he said, trying to be polite. He kept his hands on Fiona’s shaking shoulders. “There’s been a development. Mind catching me up to speed?”

            Smith pinched his nose. “This is my interview, Lupin.”

            “I know,” Teddy said. “But this is important.”

            Smith sighed. “Very well. Miss Tremblay insists that she knows nothing, despite being the last to leave last night.”

            “I wasn’t the last to leave,” Fiona whispered. “There were others who worked later, they just weren’t scheduled.”

            “Later than a banshee in the Department of Mysteries?” Smith scoffed. “Strange.”

            Teddy glared at him. “Something you want to say, Smith?”

            After Voldemort’s fall, it seemed like wizarding magic had exploded beyond the human population. There were suddenly students at Hogwarts who had Mermish heritage, who counted goblins in their family, and even people descended from Dark creatures like Banshees. As a half-werewolf, Teddy along with Victoire (an eighth-Veela) had done their best to make Hogwarts feel more welcoming, but there was still problems. Pureblood prejudice had fallen out of style, but it was still apparently acceptable to distrust someone just because they weren’t fully human.

            Smith wisely shut up.

            “We’ll be talking to the others, Fiona,” Teddy explained. “But you and the other Unspeakables know that department the best. You’re likely to notice things out of place more easily.”

            “Right, of course.” Fiona wiped her eyes. “You said there was…a development?”

            “I’m sure that’s classified, Miss Tremblay—”

            “No, Alexander, it isn’t.” And Teddy forced away his anger because this was serious, very serious indeed. “Fiona, there’s been an attempted murder.”

            “Murder?” Fiona’s eyes went wide. “But no one can die right now. Surely you can tell who killed them?”

            “Mr. Finch is currently indisposed, because of the curse. It was Dolohov’s Fire, Fiona. If the Veil was up, he would be dead.”

            Fiona put a hand to her mouth. “Dolohov’s Fire?”

            “Yes.” Teddy shot a quick glance at Smith, who’d lost all arrogance. “It’s—I have an idea, and I have no clue whether it’s possible, or if you can even tell me if it’s possible. But Fiona…if the Veil is the gateway on this side, and it’s been shattered…is it possible for people to come back through?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well...is it?   
> Harry was injured by Dolohov's Fire in my story Close Only Counts in the main collection "Fading Scars". I've given it this name, and I've also credited Remus Lupin's murder to it, but since Dolohov was willing to use it on a fifteen year old, he's likely to have used it on an adult.   
> Also, yes, you haven't been introduced to Eric yet. I'll be writing a Kith chapter about him in the future (either that or Open Wounds, not sure yet).   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	5. Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Unspeakable returns to the scene of her crime, and makes a horrifying discovery.

            Ivy Tyler was meant to be interviewed next, but she saw no harm in listening to Fiona’s interview. What were the Aurors asking? What did they already know?

            And when Lupin asked about people going through, Ivy leapt back she almost collided with an Auror returning from lunch break. The Auror didn’t notice.

            No one ever noticed Ivy. That’s why she was useful. It did help that she was currently invisible because of a well-crafted spell, but no one ever noticed her anyways. Nobody cared.

            That’s why, even with the Veil being shredded, no one stopped her when, fully visible, she went rushing back to the Death room.

            It was eerily silent, more quiet than usual without the whispering. Ivy approached the dais carefully, listening, watching. Lupin was an idiot; he couldn’t be right. Not about this. The Veil wasn’t a barrier, after all. The dead just stayed dead, it was in their nature.

            Ivy could barely hear anything; even her heart was quieter than usual. Slowing her systems down, learning to feel mostly-dead…part of her training, useful for trying to understand the reasons that witches and wizards would cross over, why some would stay.

            The Veil was still in the shattered pieces she’d left it in, strewn over the dais haphazardly. They covered some of the runes that had been there since time immemorial, long before there was a Ministry here, back when this was the cave deep in the earth where magic folk would come if they dared to get a closer look, to leave offerings for the oldest power of them all…

            _Which came first, the chicken or the egg?_ It was the first question all Unspeakables were asked when they came to work in this room. They weren’t allowed in until they got it right.

            Ivy got it first try. _Neither. Death was present before life ever began._

The runes were dull, they usually shone, but other than that the room looked almost normal. Satisfied, Ivy turned to leave.

            But as she did, she heard a laugh behind her.

            It was a horrible laugh, one without a single ounce of real joy. It sounded like bitter triumph.

            Ivy spun around.

            Three people stood amongst the remnants of the Arch. One woman and two men, dressed in simple gray robes.

            Ivy recognized all three of them.

            Bellatrix Lestrange peered at her curiously, beneath heavily lidded eyes. Augustus Rookwood was on her left, lips curled in a sneer, and McNair was on her right. He glared at her, and Ivy raised her wand.

            With a flash of Bellatrix’s wand, Ivy’s clattered to the ground.

            “No need for that,” Bellatrix said. Her voice was high-pitched, clearly an act. The laugh belonged to her. “We’re just swinging by for a quick test, and we’ll be gone.”

            Ivy took a step back. She thought of screaming, of calling for help, but what was the point?

            “Cheer up, girl. You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” Bellatrix smiled at her, clearly trying to be friendly. “You did a very good job, you know. No one’s ever been able to do what you did. Very well done indeed.”

            Ivy swallowed hard. How had she missed this? She should have known.

            But how could she have broken the door?

            Rookwood’s sneer grew more pronounced. “Oh, I don’t think the class star’s quite finished her lessons. Hadn’t they told you the Veil was one part of the Barrier?”

            Ivy shook her head. Her whole body was going numb.

            “What a shame,” Rookwood replied. “Still, it’s good for us. You mightn’t have done it otherwise.”

            “Enough of this talk,” McNair snapped. “We need to get back.”

            “Of course.” Bellatrix took a step towards Ivy. “Sorry about this, pet. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt a bit. Will it, lads?” She glared at the other two. “We need to show our gratitude, after all.”

            Ivy braced herself for pain, but there was none. She was hit by a Full Body-Bind, a thorough Silencing Spell, and then a careful _Aguamenti,_ and the water ran down her neck and into her robes. The spells worked fine; she couldn’t move, tasted water on her tongue.

            Bellatrix bent over her, and Ivy dared to hope, for a second, that it was over.

            “Sorry about this, but it might help to give you some extra motivation.”

            And there was a flash of green light. Then red, as Bellatrix Stunned the Unspeakable.

            “You going soft, Bella?” Rookwood asked. He was the only one who would dare.

            “Of course not.” Bellatrix looked down at the unconscious girl. “She’s freed us all. That kind of loyalty should be rewarded. Now come on. We need to tell him that it worked.”

            The three stepped backwards together, and vanished.


	6. Incurable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madam Hannah finds out that the culprit has been caught, but that raises more questions than answers.

            Hannah paced around the Hospital Wing, wishing that she had some patients.

            This was very unlike her. Even before Bailey and Alice, she and Neville called every student that passed through Hogwarts their child, and Hannah hated seeing her children in any kind of pain. She soothed their hurts, physical and mental, and Neville helped with their dreams. That was the deal.

            But right now, it was silent all around her, and Hannah was terrified.

            She remembered the war years all too well. The day her mother had been found dead was silent like this too. She turned away from Professor’s Sprouts kind embrace and sought out the tallest tower. Standing at the top, looking down, Hannah lost her fear of heights. No fall could cause the kind of pain that consumed her.

            The pain had faded, but that silence had never quite gone. She did her best to fill it every day, and now that they had baby Alice at home and Bailey on the weekends, it wasn’t hard.

            It was fitting, really, that the very day that she found out about Justin’s cousin was the day that the silence was so unbearable.

            Neville was with the other teachers, preparing the school for protective measures, and Alice was with Neville’s grandmother (still alive, still fierce, finally able to be loving). So Hannah was alone, chanting protective spells and double checking every last supply, making sure there was plenty for whatever lay ahead.

            Justin’s letter lay on her desk, and Hannah couldn’t help glancing over. She remembered the fight with Dolohov; he’d Crucio’d her, and Justin had leapt to her defense. And now…now Justin’s cousin was as good as dead, because they had to close the Gate again, they just had to. Because if Dolohov…if Justin was right, if he’d actually seen Dolohov himself…they were in trouble beyond imagining.

            The burst of fire startled her, and she spun around.

            “Hello, Madam Abbott,” Healer Quest said politely.

            Healer Quest was the head of the Magical Diseases department at St. Mungo’s. A few years ago, he and Hermione had collaborated on a book together about the effects of magical healing versus Muggle Healing. The book had done quite well, which had pushed Healer Quest into promotion.

            “Hello, Healer Quest,” Hannah replied. At first she was grateful for the distraction, but then she caught the look in the man’s eyes. “What’s happened? Are people dying again?”

            “No, Madam. But I think I might have the person responsible.”

            Hannah’s breath caught in her throat. “You do? You need to tell the Aurors. Who is it? What have they done?” She stopped. “I’m terribly sorry. What can you tell me?”

            “A few hours ago a patient was brought in from the Ministry. She was found in the Muggle Relations department’s toilet. At first I thought her symptoms were because of her Fading Sickness—”

            Hannah sucked in a breath. Fading Sickness was rare, but it was a horrible way to die. People who got it just started to drop into a faint at any moment, growing paler and, eventually, become unable to eat. There’d only been eight cases that Hannah had ever hear of among wizards in the last fifty years, though little research had been done on Muggles.

            “But it wasn’t that,” Healer Quest continued. “She’s been spelled silent, and she’s got—well, you should see for yourself.”

            “Of course. I haven’t any patients right now. Let me contact the Headmaster, and I’ll be right there.”

            “Very well. Tell your husband I said hello.” Healer Quest’s head disappeared, which was good, otherwise Hannah would have thrown something at him.

            As it was she clenched her fist as she wrote a quick letter to Neville. She loved her husband, adored her husband, but was it so hard for either of them to be known by themselves? She’d made herself hoarse telling people that she was Ms. Abbot, or Madam Abbott, and not Mrs. Longbottom. Meanwhile, students and teachers alike would refer to Neville as ‘your husband’ when they were in the Hospital Wing, and she told them off too. He was Neville, or Headmaster Longbottom, the end.

_Neville, love, I’m running to St. Mungo’s. Something’s come up. I’ll let you know if it is what I think it is._

            She strode through the fireplace. “Where is the patient? What’s her name?”

            Healer Quest pointed to the bed in the room. “Her name is Ivy. A colleague recognized her—she’s an Unspeakable. We’ve kept her in here for obvious reasons.”

            Hannah approached the bed. Ivy was conscious, her eyes half-closed. She was dressed in the traditional Unspeakable robes, but seemed unharmed.

            “Hello Ivy,” Hannah said, approaching the bed. “My name’s Madam Abbott, I’m the mediwitch at Hogwarts. Can you understand me?”

            Ivy didn’t move beyond a slow blink.

            Puzzled, Hannah picked up Ivy’s hand. Her pulse was incredibly rapid.

            “Healer Quest, have you tested her for a Body-Bind?”

            “Oh dear. No, I hadn’t got to that yet. You must see that more at school.” 

            Hannah waved her wand, and Ivy’s body relaxed. “I don’t, actually, but she wasn’t even trying to respond. Is that better, Ivy?”

            Ivy nodded. Now that her face was relaxed, she looked terrified.

            “How did this happen, Ivy?”

            Ivy shook her head.

            “You don’t want to tell me?”

            Ivy shook her head again.

            “You…can’t tell me.”

            That got a nod.

             “Alright, that’s okay. Are you hurt anywhere?”

            Ivy slowly shook her head, but she glanced in the direction of her shoulder.

            “I’m going to give you a check over, just in case, okay?” Hannah laid a hand against Ivy’s forehead. She was worried now. Of course she could guess why Healer Quest was so interested, and there was a strange pricking in her thumbs. Something wicked this way comes, her mother explained to her. She’d gotten it from some Abbott ancestor: the ability to sense whether someone had been touched by evil.

            She gently eased Ivy out of the heavy top robe, revealing skinny arms. If she did have Fading Sickness, she must be getting close to the bad stages; Hannah could see where her strength should have been.

            She ran her fingers over nearly translucent skin, and then gasped.

            “What is it?”

            Fingers trembling, Hannah traced the mark on Ivy’s arm. It was very familiar to her; after all, every lunch hour she sat just down the table from someone with that exact scar.

            A scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

            “She’s been killed,” Hannah breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well now...things are heating up.   
> Also, sorry for the wait--I haven't updated this fic until last year!   
> (Yes I am gonna make dumb jokes like that 5ever).   
> Also, this is my third year publishing fic, which is kinda bonkers. Thanks to everyone for these three years, and here's to more--I'll keep publishing as long as I've got ideas :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	7. Challenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Lee Jordan, and Nicky go to the Department of Mysteries, and run into a dark figure.

Just as Hannah was figuring this out, Hermione, Lee Jordan, and Nicky were heading into the Department of Mysteries.   

A long night of Luna talking to her colleagues all over the world confirmed that no one magical was able to die anywhere. It was already starting to cause problems in the Muggle world, where Muggleborn children with terminal illnesses were continuing to live, and one wizard had been hit by a drag racer and was still alive, despite having been virtually torn in half.

Hermione shuddered, willing herself not to picture that.

“Are you sure we’re allowed down here, Aunt Mione?” Nicky asked. “None of us works for the Ministry.”

“I used to,” Hermione said airily. “Besides, someone has to supervise you two.”

Nicky stuck out her tongue.

Nicky’s experience with runes through her adventures with Lara would be immensely helpful. Lee knew plenty about Ancient Runes as well, but more than that, he knew a fair bit about Unspeakables.

“My last partner was an Unspeakable,” he explained as he opened the door for Hermione. “He wasn’t allowed to talk about work, but he was allowed to talk about the people he worked with.”

“Susan will want to speak to you, then.”

“Soon as we’re done here. We talked about this in Ancient Runes one day, it’ll be cool to see.”

“We never did,” Hermione said, surprised. More than that, she hadn't come across it yet in her research for writing her Ancient Runes textbook.

“Well, it’s a mite depressing, isn’t it? Maybe Professor Babbling got tired of people moaning about it.” Seeing Hermione’s interested expression, Lee went on. “Once the Veil was created, the original Coven of Wizards put down a load of runes. Supposedly they tell stories about the afterlife, but they’re all entangled with runes from other cultures, so translating has been next to impossible. The only word they know for sure is ‘death’.”

The door opened, and Hermione caught her breath.

She didn’t remember very much about the battle at the Department of Mysteries; a side effect of Dolohov’s Fire. But she remembered this room for sure.

Harry had wanted to go that morning, but Hermione wouldn’t let him. “You don’t need to go back there, Harry. Besides, you’ve got school to set up.”

She wasn’t going to let her friend stand on the same ground where his godfather had died.

The room was strange without the Veil. Without it, it was just a large, empty room. There were still pieces of the arch, and Hermione approached them carefully. “Nicky, I want you to stay back.”

“You do realize this is what I do for a living, right?” Nicky rolled her eyes and muttered a few words. “There’s no danger here.”

“Good.” Then why did she feel so uneasy? Something was off here. The air felt lighter than it should have.

Lee’s dreadlocks moved in the breeze.

That was it.

“There’s wind in here,” Hermione said sharply. “Where is it coming from?”

They were so far underground, with no direct passage out.

“It's coming from where the runes are,” Lee said. He pulled out his wand. “Come on, the sooner this is done the better.”

Hermione swallowed hard, and she mounted the steps.

Immediately Lee's story became obvious. Hermione had never seen such complicated rune patterns. Some of them were unfamiliar to her, and they wound around a space on the ground. That space was covered in debris.

“Do you recognize any of this, Nicky?”

“Some. Obviously the Ancient Runes, but some of the South American ones are familiar. I see 'death', and I think that one is...'life'?”

“Really? Where?” Lee crouched down beside Nicky. Hermione stayed standing, glancing over her shoulder. Something was very wrong in this place.

“Well, the runes haven't been touched much,” Lee reported. “There are only a few scratches, probably from debris. They should be holding, if it wasn't for--”

“No Veil.” Nicky supplied. She traced one of the runes with her fingers, and then pulled out her camera. She snapped some pictures. “What exactly are we hoping to learn here, again?”

“The Unspeakables are working on restoring the Veil itself,” Hermione explained. “All over the world. But we need to make sure this can't happen again, and it might be that the runes will tell us how.”

“People have been working on this problem for decades, Hermione.” Lee looked uncharacteristically serious. “This will be a lot of work.”

“We don't have to finish it in order for this to stop,” Hermione replied. “But we might as well give it a go.”

“I've got enough pictures, Aunt Mione.” Nicky stashed her camera away. “We should get to Hogwarts. Nat and Roxy are probably ready for us now.”

Hermione was about to breathe a sigh of relief, but then the runes started to glow.

“Get back!”

Nicky had already leapt away, crouching beside Lee. Hermione watched in horror as a figure took shape amongst the debris. It was a short man, clad in black robes. It was someone Hermione recognized.

“Get back, it's MacNair!”

The Death Eater snarled at them and fired a Blasting curse at them. Hermione dodged it, throwing up shields around Lee and Nicky.

Not that Nicky appeared to need them, because she was chanting quickly. Sparks were flying from her wand, and MacNair stumbled backwards, right into Lee Jordan. The two of them went down, and Hermione dashed forwards.

The wind was stronger now, and Hermione felt her stomach turn. It was an abnormal wind, one that didn't belong in this world. Clammy and clingy, it pulled at her.

No, it was pulling at MacNair.

 They had to get him back in, but how?

Ancient Runes were technically a dead language. No one ever spoke them, since the physical appearance of each character could completely change the meaning. But they had learned some pronunciation in class, and that was how Hermione remembered some of the longest strings.

“Gurth !” Hermione shouted.

A visible shudder went through MacNair, and he was yanked to his feet.

“Gurth!” Hermione shouted again. She kept shouting it, dodging McNair’s curses until he was on the runes themselves. We don't have to finish it in order for this to stop,” Hermione replied. “But we might as well give it a go.”

 They had to get him back in, but how?

“GURTH!” Nicky shouted, and with a howl McNair vanished.

Lee was already setting up defensive spells, and Hermione joined him.

“What the hell?” Nicky asked. “What the fucking hell?”

“We need to get out of here.” Hermione finished a last Shield charm. “We need to warn everyone.”

On the way out, Hermione refused to look back. She couldn’t manage it, because looking back would mean confronting a horrible, horrible idea.

And she needed to catch her breath before she could do that.

They burst into the Atrium of the Ministry. Hermione put a hand to her chest, breathing hard.

Nicky was staring at her, eyes wide with terror. “Auntie, was that—was that really—”

Hermione pulled Nicky into her arms, clinging to her with terror. “It’ll be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered. “We’ll make it okay.”

“Aunt Hermione?”

Hermione looked up. Teddy was walking across the Atrium, Fiona wheeling along beside him.

“What’s happened?”

“MacNair,” Hermione said hoarsely. “MacNair was there.”

Teddy didn’t look shocked, which scared Hermione even more. “Are you hurt?”

“Just my ego,” Lee said. But he looked frightened too. “Teddy, what do you know?”

“There’s been a murder,” Teddy said carefully. “Well, a murder that hasn’t killed the person. And it was Dolohov’s fire.”

Hermione winced, putting a hand to her chest.

“It was Justin Finch-Fletchley’s cousin. And Justin swore he saw Dolohov himself.”

            “And he was right.” That was Hannah. She was striding towards them, looking grim. “I think we’ve found the criminal, Auror Lupin.”

            Teddy’s eyes narrowed. “You have?”

            “Ivy Tyler. She’s an Unspeakable.”

            Fiona gasped. “I know her. She was one of my trainers!” 

            “She’s at St. Mungo’s right now,” Hannah said. “Under heavy guard. She won’t speak, the Silencing spell someone put on her has been corrupted, but she’s admitted that she destroyed the Veil. She won’t say why. And she’s been…she’s been killed. She has a scar like Harry’s on her shoulder.”

            Hermione trembled. “So people are coming through. And if they are…can we stop them?”

            “What if we can’t?” Teddy asked.

            “Then we’re going to be at war,” Lee said grimly. “And it’ll be unending.”


	8. Waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Emergency Council is summoned, and everyone goes into lockdown.

Audrey popped a blackberry fruit drop into her mouth. They were the size of her thumbnail, but they held the filling taste of the actual fruit. They were her biggest weakness, and she kept a box of them on her desk.

            She offered them to the others, but they all shook their heads.

            “You’re all going to need to eat at some point,” Audrey pointed out.

            The Emergency Council meeting was called within five minutes of Hannah Abbot’s information. Audrey’s office was nearly full now with representatives from the largest areas of wizarding life.

            Headmaster Neville Longbottom was sitting beside Healer Quest. Percy was on Quest’s left, Draco Malfoy was on Neville’s right. Arthur Weasley and Rose Granger-Weasley were there for Muggle Relations, and George Weasley represented Diagon Alley’s concerns. The last two were Edith Rawling, the Head of the Department of Mysteries and Susan Bones, Head of the Auror Department.

            “Should we wait for Rolf?” Percy asked.

            “He’s on his way,” Audrey answered. “And we really need to start. Edith, we need your insight. How long do we have?”

            Edith’s dark eyes blinked slowly. “This has never happened before,” she began.

            Audrey suppressed a sigh. Edith was the best at her job in Europe. She’d actually walked in the Death realm several times while remaining alive, and she’d forgotten more about working with Mysteries than most people had ever known. Her communication skills, on the other hand…

            “The Veil stood guarding the passage from the land of the dead for millennia. It has been there longer than magickind knew of it. It provided a way to the Beyond for magickind, but it was a one-way portal.”

            Audrey’s ears pricked up. “So the Dead shouldn’t be able to come through?”

            “Exactly. There is a separate Gate to the Beyond, and it only opens from our side. The two of them form the Barrier. There was no way to reverse that.”

            “So breaking the Veil shouldn’t have broken the Gate, because they are two separate parts?” Percy asked.

            “Correct,” Edith said. “There is not real connection between them They are made in different worlds.”

            A collective shiver went through the room. There was something so strange about the idea of Death as another world.

            “So Ivy breaking the Veil…she didn’t mean to unleash the dead, did she?” Audrey asked. She ate another fruit drop; pineapple this time. That would fill her.

            “No. She’s managed to write a little bit of what happened,” Healer Quest said. His mustache quivered with indignation. “She’s ill, you see, the Fading Sickness. And she figured that if no one could die…”

            “She would live,” Audrey muttered. “Selfish little—”

            “I could understand not wanting to die,” Draco said carefully. “And I could understand thinking she was doing people a favour. But—I agree with you, Audrey. It’s selfish. Some people need to die.”

            “It is a supreme breach of the ethics of our Department,” Edith said coolly. “We guard and study mysteries. We do not pervert them for anyone.”

            “So how long do we have before more people start coming through?” Percy asked, repeating Audrey’s earlier question. She sent her husband a grateful look.

            “It’s hard to say,” Edith admitted. “But it’s clear that they’ve managed to make it out of the Ministry and back, and there are others that have come through since. Ivy identified Bellatrix Lestrange and Augustus Rookwood, and Hermione Granger positively identified McNair today.”

            “Why do you assume Dolohov returned to the Beyond?” Susan asked. “What’s stopping him from staying around?”

            “He’s answering to someone else,” Draco muttered.

            They all turned to look at him.

            “I was a Death Eater, remember? I remember him, and the others you mentioned. And Dolohov, Rookwood, Bellatrix and McNair were the most loyal. Rookwood and Bellatrix worshipped him, and McNair and Dolohov just liked the chance to hurt people. It sounds to me like…like they’re scouting. Trying to figure out what they can do.”

            “And they’re coming faster. Hermione, Lee and Nicky were able to stop McNair today, and that means they know the passage is still open. And that people know that they’re coming through. That means when they come again they’ll come in…in greater numbers. Ready to fight their way out.”

            There was a moment of silence after that. Audrey remembered another such moment, when Pius Thicknesse came out of the Minister’s office with blood on his hands and a blank look in his eyes. “I am the Minister now,” he’d told the entire Atrium. “You report to me now. Everything is fine.”

            Nothing was fine for almost a year. 

            “So how do we stop them from coming through on our side?” Audrey asked. “Repair the Veil?”

            “That would help, but we have no knowledge of how to do so,” Edith said. “Our understanding of the Veil is quite limited as is. I have no notion how to remake it, or even who to ask. Our only hope is to translate the Runes.”

            “Which hasn’t been done in the millennia of the Veil’s existence.”

            “No,” Edith agreed. “But there is an urgency now there has never been before. And Unspeakables the world over are looking into it.”

            “Percy, have there been any reports from other countries about people coming through?” Audrey asked.

            “So far nothing,” Percy said. “But they weren’t looking for it until a few hours ago. There are some possible sightings in France, but not of Dark magickind. They’re looking into wards now, but…there aren’t very many options.”

            “How do you mean?”

            “There are several wards against the living,” Percy explained. “And several for the dead. But these people coming through aren’t either. They still have their magic, so they aren’t ghosts, and they come from the land of the Dead, so they aren’t alive.”

            Audrey felt hollow. “So we can’t stop them.”

            “I don’t believe we can, Madam Minister,” Edith said. “I suggest that we concentrate on finding a way to send them back.”

            “Before they kill us all,” Audrey agreed. “So far they’re Death Eaters, and they’ve already killed two people.” How many Death Eaters were dead?

            “Why aren’t any good people coming through?” Healer Quest asked.

            “Death is a firm caretaker,” Edith answered in a flat voice. “They can control their subjects to a point, and most find peace in death. But there are many areas of the afterlife, and those in the worst places…well. They would have serious motivation to escape.”

            “Wonderful,” George said gloomily. “Then we need to get everyone out of here immediately, don’t we?”

            “I would suggest we implement everyone’s Safety Plans,” Audrey said. “We’re not exactly sure what they’re after yet, and until we are we need to protect the major targets. Neville, how soon can Hogwarts be evacuated?”

            “Harry, Ernie, and Hannah are already working on it,” Neville answered. “The students are packed, and they can get on the train once I’ve given the word.”

            “And the Refuge is ready?”

            “Hagrid’s there now.”

            “Lovely. George?”

            “I’ve already closed the shop for today, and everyone else is doing it too, staggering it. Fortescue’s will be the last. Once everyone is closed we can get the last few people out by Portkey or Knight Bus.”

            “Healer Quest?”

            “It won’t be easy right now,” the Healer fretted. “We have several patients in a delicate state.”

            “That’s why we have these plans. Can it be done?”

            “Within a few hours. I hope.”

            Audrey ignored the man’s tone. He always sounded uncertain when he spoke with her, but Quest was one of the best in the business. “Draco?”

            “The prison’s shields are up. There’s been no communication in the last twenty-four hours. I won’t…” Draco faltered. “I won’t be there, but Jaffstone will be. He has no family, and he’s volunteered to be in charge and break the news to everyone. He and I will stay in contact until this is all cleared up.”

            “Let us know if anyone within the prison is of particular concern.”

            Draco nodded. 

            “And as for Muggle Relations…” Arthur cleaned his glasses. “Rosie and I are going to meet with the Prime Minister in a moment. We’ll tell her the truth, and let her know that our recommendation is to announce a resurgence of a terrorist group.”

            “Which is true enough.” Rose was the youngest person in the room by a good twenty years, and Audrey felt terrible for her niece. Then again, she’d volunteered to come, white knuckles and all.

            Ron and Hermione had raised their daughter well.

            “And the Ministry will be evacuated entirely. It’s already begun.” Audrey glanced over to her memo pad, where more information was coming in every few minutes. “All departments have been instructed to remove their records and artifacts; when they come there will be nothing for them to take. The Aurors are working on the wards?”

            Susan nodded. “Lavender’s brought in some of her ladies too, to make sure we’ve covered everything. It won’t…I suppose it won’t stop them. But it will slow them down, and make them miserable doing it. We’ll clear residents for a few blocks as well.”

            Audrey thought it through, looking for loopholes. But she could only think of one. “Nicky Weasley has taken photos of the runes at the base of the Veil. She and other Runic consultants plan to study them. Are there any other records of the runes? Or anything that might help them see what work has been done already?”

            Edith drew a thick book from her bag. “Right here, Minister. I wish your people luck.”

            Audrey took it. “I’ll deliver it tonight. Neville, will you go with your students?”

            Neville shook his head. “Ernie is with the students. I have other responsibilities here.”

            “Then I will see you later.” Audrey clapped her hands. “Meeting adjourned. Please find a safe place. We have our…methods of communication. Use them.”

            “You know what is odd?” Percy asked as the others stood.

            “That we’re having this conversation at all?” Audrey asked bitterly.

            “No. That apart from possible sightings in France, no one else is coming through. If the Beyond is not arranged by worldly geography, then it’s…it’s highly coincidental that British Dark witches and wizards are coming through in Britain.”

            “Perhaps they come back where they want to come back.”

            “Yes, but there’s loads of Dark magickind from all over the world, and several of whom have died recently. Why are there only British wizards?”

            Audrey bit her lip. “Ivy Tyler is British.”

            “And my bet is that the someone or someones who broke the Gate is from Britain too,” Percy said grimly. He offered her a hand up. “Do you need any help packing?”

            “No, love. Get to Grimmauld Place with the others.” Harry and Ginny’s home was plenty big, even for all of them, and it was safer than anywhere else.

            Audrey waited as the Ministry closed down around her, eating fruit drops as people left. The whole place was so quiet—an aura of fear and hopelessness surround her. Audrey actually considered casting a Patronus, but that was ridiculous. There were no Dementors here, just silence and waiting.

            When Audrey finally left, she was still waiting. When she got to Grimmauld Place and saw everyone together in the living room (even Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, and two men Audrey recognized as Iris’ parents), they were all still waiting.

            But no one could talk about it, no one could say it out loud. Their worst fear was coming, and all they could do was sit here in silence and hold on to each other.

            Eventually some of the family fell asleep, huddled in small groups with siblings and parents and lovers alike. But Audrey kept waiting, her nerves pulled taut, holding her daughters’ hands.

            And she was still awake when both Draco and Lucius Malfoy clutched their left forearms, and Harry started to cry; several people were crying. But Audrey just felt numb.

            Things weren’t all right again.

            Voldemort was back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm guessing some of you guessed this was coming?   
> Next chapter we're going to take a better look at the perpetrators. Fair heads up--two chapters after this, the one that should be posted on the 17th, is gonna be a long one. Like, more than 5K words long. So if you've been waiting for the word count to jump up to read more seriously, now is the time! (I do that all the time).   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	9. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a peek at the villains this chapter, and a glimpse of their terrible plan....

Percy was mostly right.

All the witches and wizards who sat in the clearing were all from Britain. were dressed like hikers; anyone who came upon them accidentally would assume they were a tour group. Perceptive people would notice the group were all looking intently at the sky, and had been doing so for hours.

            But no one was around on that day, because the wind was raw for June and a fine, cold rain fell. The group sat in silence until well after dark. When there was no light, a few lit their wands.

            At last, the owl they’d been waiting for flew in. The screech owl landed in front of a young woman who practically grabbed at the scroll. The others were older, more patient.

            Then again, they had less to lose. They had lost less, too.

            The girl (she was really no more than a girl) ripped the scroll apart, and let out a cry of deep, passionate joy.

            The others looked at her. “It has happened?” A man asked.

            “Yes. The spy confirmed it. Our lord has returned! We need to move to the next phase.”

            They all knew the next phase. As one, they rose at last and got onto brooms. All except the girl. She rose into the air.

            They flew for an hour. The rain fell more heavily, but even in the darkness they flew true. They’d practiced so many times in all weather.

            Someone had to feed the babies, after all.

            When the girl landed, she gripped her wand and muttered a few quick words. It wasn’t a Patronus that came from her wand, none of them could cast the spell. But it gave them a barrier from the near-starving young.

            They stood at the edge of a valley, a valley completely filled with hooded figures. They were the size of children, but the menacing quiet, the stillness even as rain poured onto them, their lack of faces…well, Dementors didn’t grow their faces until they were adolescents.

            “We need to release them now, right?” the man asked the girl.

            The girl nodded. “They are ready, and I dare not keep them any longer. We would risk them becoming adults.”

            “You can release them safely, right?” A woman asked the girl. The oldest of the gathering, she looked nervous.

            “Of course,” the girl said.

            And she was safe, safe behind her barrier as the Dementors fed upon the others. She put her hands over her ears to block the screams. She’d liked some of them, and it was a tad unfair that they had to lose their souls.

            “We had to test the babies, remember?”

            The girl’s face lit up, and she turned around. Her lover stood in the rain under her own barrier, smiling gently.

            “You made it!”

            “Before they closed the border. Hours before. Come here, I missed you!”

            Perhaps the Dementors caught a taste of the girl’s joy as she sprinted between the barriers, jumping over the corpses. She didn’t care—they could have it.

            The girl twined her arms around her lover’s neck. “We’ve done it,” she breathed. “We’ve done it at last.”

            Her lover kissed her there, surrounded by baby Dementors, some still glowing with the souls they’d devoured. 

            They were going to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, yes, two of the villains are gay. ALMOST EVERYONE ELSE IS QUEER TOO, SO IT'S FINE.  
> (Also Yaxley, the gayest Death Eater).   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	10. Shock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The family gathers together...and a shock is had by all.

Harry woke from three hours of sleep to a quiet knock on the door.

            “Harry?” It was Dudley, standing at the door to his room. “Thought you might be awake.” He had a mug of tea in his hand.

            “Thanks, Dudley.” Harry sat up and took the mug. “How are Leo and Iris doing?”

            “Your family’s getting them up to speed.” Dudley’s mouth tightened. “Thanks for letting us stay.”

            The moment Harry heard Hermione’s story about McNair he’d contacted Dudley and Leo. “Bring Iris,” he told them. “I want you safe.”

“I heard from Mum and Dad,” Dudley said quietly. “They’re going to drive up, but they don’t want to stay here.”

            “I understand.” He didn’t, not at all, but Harry and Dudley didn’t talk about the Dursley parents. There wasn’t any point.

            “Do you really have enough room for everyone here?” Dudley asked. ‘There’s about fifty people downstairs.”

            “Fifty-two,” Harry said absently. He was still dressed, and he got up with the mug in his hand. “And people won’t be staying long. At least some of them won’t be.”

            “How do you mean?”

            “Voldemort’s back, Dudley. That means he’s going to try and kill me, and likely everyone I love. We need to protect them.”

            “Hermione said there’s not been any problems today.”

            “What?” That woke Harry up quickly.

            He followed Dudley downstairs. Most of the family was sitting in the living room and dining room.

            Hermione was pale, her hair up in a tight bun. She hugged Harry for a long second, and Harry hugged back just as hard.

            “Dudley said there hasn’t been much?” Harry asked when he could find his voice.

            “Nothing,” Hermione said. “We know that Voldemort’s come through, and that several Death Eaters came through too.”

            What an insane world, where that sentence made sense.

            “Do we know who?”

            “Audrey put a mirror into the Department of Mysteries. It saw several of them.” Hermione passed him a list. _Bellatrix Lestrange, Augustus Rookwood, Barty Crouch Jr., Antonin Dolohov, Rodolphus Lestrange, Peter Pettigrew, Yaxley._

            Harry cursed. “Wonderful.”

            “I think there’s more coming. Audrey and Edith are watching.”

            “And there haven’t been any incidents?”

            “Nothing. Lee’s already got the Potterwatch network going again, and there are no reports anywhere in England. Lavender’s looking over Wales, and Scotland has no major reports. No one’s even seen them. Hagrid’s gone to the Continent to help Charlie and Viktor, and the borders are closed.”

            “And they’ve definitely left the Ministry?”

            Hermione nodded. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

            “It does if they have a plan,” Harry said grimly. “Or more likely, if they have insider information.”

            “You think so too?”

            Harry nodded. “Hannah’s told me what Ivy’s said so far. Ivy only wanted to close the portal so she didn’t die from her illness. And Susan’s interrogated her thoroughly since. There’s more to that story, and the closer we get to figuring that out, the better. How are the runes going?”

            “Nat and Roxy have got dozens of books ready at Hogwarts,” Hermione replied. “Nicky and I will start working on them, and Lee’s got into contact with some Runists for advice. He’s going to join us later. Harry…what are we going to do with everyone?”

            Harry swallowed. “Come on,” he said, holding out his hand. “We need to talk about that.”

*******

When Grimmauld Place had been remodelled, Harry had seized the chance to make the place bigger. It was easy enough to do; the walls practically melted and reformed nearly a city block away. There was even space for a yard out back (though to a Muggle eye it would seem that the family gathered in the middle of the road). His eighteen year old self had desperately wanted to believe in the house, to believe that it would be a home where family and friends alike would gather in great numbers for years to come, and he wanted it to be comfortable and inviting no matter how many came to stay. It was the same reason they owned several dozen chairs, the same reason their pantry and bar were always full, the same reason that there were plenty of rooms ready for overnight visitors upstairs (there’d been some vertical expansion as well). Their home was going to be as inviting as possible.

 It was coming in handy now, as over fifty people were staying in the home, but it was for all the wrong reasons. Harry looked over the sea of people, so much quieter than it usually was with his brood. Brothers and sisters, friends, teachers, children, niblings, even god-grandchildren…they were all here at once. It should have been happy.

            Instead, everyone fell completely silent when Harry and Hermione stepped into the room.

            “Right,” Harry said. His throat was tight; he tried to clear it. “Hello, everyone. Please tell me you all got a bit of sleep.”

            There were some weary nods.

            “Look, I don’t—Harry stopped. “I know this is awful. Really, I do. And I want to make sure that you all know that you’re safe here. That you’re welcome to stay here.” He swallowed. Talking was stupidly difficult. “But we do need to talk about some of you—about some of you going away.”

            He was expecting an uproar. The silence was worse.

            Nicky broke it. “We can fight, Uncle Harry. All of us can.”

            “I know. And you’re all adults, and you can make your own choices, but—but you don’t know what this will be like. Unfortunately, this family we’ve built is at risk now.” Harry looked around, relieved that the youngest children were playing quietly, oblivious to the turmoil around them. “A lot of us fought in the war, and we’ll be targets now. And there’s no telling how long this is going to go on.”

            “Some of us have to stay,” Hermione added. “Decoding the Runes is going to take everyone we can, and we have to stay close.”

            “And some of us will be fighting,” Ron said, in a voice that brooked no argument. "We can't let the Death Eaters roam wild."

"But a lot of people are going into hiding," Harry said. "There's no shame in it at all. We have the schoolkids set up, and we can have families go into hiding.”

            “We’re going to go,” Maia said. She put her arm around Victoire. “We decided last night, to go with the kids.”

            Harry nodded. He’d been expecting that. “Of course, Maia. That will be a big help, actually. It might convince other families to go.”

            “Abby, what’s wrong?”

            Harry turned. James was moving towards his wife, who stood by the door, tears streaming down her face.

            “What’s happened?” Ginny asked.

            Abby clutched James’ hands. “I’m so _sorry,”_ she gasped. “It wasn’t _supposed_ to be like this, and I want to _fight,_ but I…I can’t.”

            Harry was flummoxed, but James seemed to understand, because he drew Abby close with a moan of pain. “Are you sure? Oh darling, it’s lovely, but…”

            Abby buried her face in James’ shoulder. “I checked _twice_. It is for sure.”

            James kissed her head. “We’ll figure it out. We will, I promise. I won’t leave you.”

            Suddenly Harry understood. “Abby,” he said. Helpless, again. There was nothing he could do.

            “I’m pregnant,” Abby said. “We’ve been…we’ve been trying for a few months. I just realized I’d missed my last period…”

            Ginny had her hands over her mouth, a sob choking in her throat.

            “Oh god,” Abby moaned. “I never thought you’d be crying like _this_ …”

            James wasn’t crying, but he looked so scared, so much like the little boy he’d once been, that Harry took them both in his arms. “I’m so happy,” he said. “And you both need to know that. We’re very happy for you.”

            Ginny hugged them too, and soon the rest of the room was echoing with reassurances, excitement over the latest baby, and Estelle (so young, too young to understand the joy and agony of the moment) asking whether the baby would have red or blonde hair.

            But in that moment Harry felt angry, really angry for the first time. James, his firstborn, now expecting his firstborn…they should be celebrating the new life, celebrating that this love story had a new chapter, a new expression. That’s all that should be happening right now.

            Instead he was supervising evacuations and facing the return of a man killed eight times over. _Eight._ And the gates of Death were broken.

            What had been the point of all the fighting, when being a parent still meant watching your child be in an agony of fear?

**********

            A few hours later, and the house was quiet once more. All the children—adults, for god’s sake, but they were still _children_ to him—were grouped together, talking. Hermione and Lee were buried deep in rune books, trying to choose ones to bring to Hogwarts, and Harry was knitting. Madly, stupidly, knitting, but he had a grandchild on the way and he was going to make sure the baby had a blanket. Just like Teddy’s children.

            One made by him.

            Ginny touched his hand, and Harry didn’t stop knitting.

            “Harry, where is Lily?”

            That made him stop. Now that he looked around, it was obvious his daughter wasn’t there. Her partners still sat in a square, but her corner was empty.

            “She didn’t leave,” Harry said flatly. “We would have heard.”

            “Can you go find her, Harry? I—you might be best to talk to her, right now.”

            Harry took Ginny’s hands and kissed them. Less than a week ago, she’d made cake for their youngest’s eighteenth birthday. Now they were in lockdown in Grimmauld Place.

            “Lily?” Harry called. There was no answer, and when he walked into the kitchen there was no sign of his daughter.

            Thinking she might be in her room, Harry headed for the stairs.

            And then there was a scream.

            “DADDY!”

            Harry’s wand was in his hand before he thought, ready to bound up the stairs…

            Lily almost knocked him down, throwing herself into his arms.

            “Lily, what’s wrong?” Harry held her with one arm, trying to see the danger.

            He could hear the others coming, heard them coming from the kitchen and from upstairs…

            But no, nobody else was upstairs.

            Lily disentangled herself and stood beside him with her wand outstretched. “They came from out of nowhere, Dad!”

            His daughter sounded one part terrified and two parts excited, which meant it wasn’t danger…

            The footsteps grew louder, and Harry could see people on the landing.

            Sirius Black, Nymphadora Tonks and Fred Weasley were looking down at them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that will be all for now!!!!   
> (Mwahahahaha)  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	11. Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The families reunite, and Harry greets an old friend.

            Knees threatening to give out, brain dull with shock, Harry stared up. He could hear a confused muttering behind him, but he couldn’t speak. He put his arm out to shield Lily.

            “Wotcher, Harry.” Tonks started down the stairs, but Harry raised his wand higher.

            “Don’t move.”

            “Fair enough.” That was Fred, and god he sounded so bloody _young._ “We have been dead for quite a time, haven’t we?”

            “Fred?”

            That was George, behind him. Harry winced; there was raw, painful hope in his voice.

            Fred’s expression was more tender than Harry had ever seen it in life. “Hullo, Georgie. Holey as ever, I see. Did you ever get that frog machine to work?”

            Harry turned in time to see George go pale. “I—no, never did. The damn thing doesn’t _want_ to work.”

            “Harry.”

            Harry was shaking now. Sirius’ voice…it sounded just as it had the last time they spoke. It felt real…

            “It is us, mate.” Sirius took one step down, and Harry let him. “We’re all here to help. Not going to let the Noseless Wonder ruin everything again.”

            Lily giggled hysterically.

            “You said all,” Harry said, gripping his wand tighter.

            “We’re here too,” another familiar voice said. It was Remus Lupin, who was standing beside his wife. “There’s a few others. We were going to come down less…dramatically. But these three got ahead of themselves.”

            “Well that, and Lily Luna came in and saw us,” Tonks retorted. “We thought we were still invisible or something.”

            “Excuse me,” Harry said politely. “Just to—I just—” What the hell is happening? This couldn’t be real, he’d hoped for this since they first realized people could come back, but that was wrong…

            “I told them they could come to help. They all volunteered.”

            That was a new voice, one Harry had never heard before in his life.

            And yet the person who was walking down the stairs was familiar. Their eyes were kind, if weary, and their face kept shifting ever so slightly, showing features that were vague in their familiarity.

            Lily clung to Harry all of a sudden, and the entire building seemed to go silent all at once.

            The person reached out a gloved hand. “Harry.”

            Harry took it. “Death.”

            Death smiled back, and for a moment they looked like Mrs. Figg. “It is really them, Harry. It didn’t seem quite fair if only bad people came back. Besides, they all wanted to help.” Death let go of Harry’s hand. “We need to set this right.”

            Sirius started down the stairs, and this time Harry let him approach. His godfather looked as he had in the Forbidden Forest, the wan and haunted look gone from his face.

            “It’s us, Harry. It really is us.”

            Harry blinked hard. “Please tell me this isn’t some sort of dream.”

            Sirius hugged him, and Harry knew that it wasn’t a dream. The one memory he’d missed the most about the dead was how they hugged, but he remembered it now.

            “Oi, can we all come down?”

            Harry looked up to see Tonks. His eyes widened as he saw who was behind her.

            Moody, Cedric Diggory…he could see Colin Creevey too, Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Dobby. They were coming down the stairs so naturally. Like they’d been there a hundred times before.

            And his parents were there too, Lily with her hair done up in a messy bun, just like her granddaughter did it. And his father, beaming at him with a very familiar face and different eyes.

            Things became a bit of a blur after that. The crowd of family swelled to include the newcomers, and Harry hugged everyone within reach, especially with Dobby, who threw his bony arms around Harry’s legs so tightly Harry almost lost feeling, and he didn’t care, just crouched down to hug the elf back…

But Harry didn't cry until he was hugging his father. "Hello Harry," James said. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

And that did something to Harry— _my father curses, of course he does—_ and he buried his face in James' shoulder, shaking.

Eventually everyone managed to calm down, and they returned to the living room. The room was even more crowded now, with twelve new people. Harry's head was spinning, and before he realized it he was Summoning a chair, sitting down.

 “I think we need a moment,” Ginny said. Her hands were on Harry’s shoulders. “Could you possibly…explain, more?”

Death nodded. They raised a hand, and an image appeared: the Veil, floating in midair.

“When the Veil was shredded, I knew there wasn’t much time before the dead would start to take advantage. Thankfully it was confined to the wizarding dead, but that’s not much to say for the threat to the afterlife.”

“Not to mention the living,” Harry said.

“More so for the afterlife,” Death replied. “You see, the afterlife rests on a delicate balance. It must hold every wizard soul that’s ever been, every magical creature. Tearing holes in the entry and exit points has destabilized it. That’s why no one can die. If I could, I would simply escort people through. But I can’t do that right now- it’s all I can do to make sure that it holds together. That’s why I sought out your family.”

“We knew there was trouble,” Sirius explained. “But it wasn’t until Death came and spoke to us that we realized how bad it was for the living world.”

“I let them know that this didn’t have to be their fight,” Death continued. “But they decided to come anyways.”

“It’s no one’s fight unless they choose it,” Remus answered. “And we’re happy to help. There were others who wanted to come, but they decided to hold the other side and try to keep more people jumping through.”

“Reg is leading that effort,” Sirius said proudly.  

Harry smiled. The Black brothers must have reconciled in death.

“Do you know who’s done this?” Ginny asked.

Death shook their head. “I don’t know the names of souls, Ginny. Not in the living world, and not even in the afterlife. All I can see are connections, and whatever’s done this is connected to you.”

A horrible idea dawned on Harry. “Wait—you don’t mean—it’s not because I was a Horcrux, was it?”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Not you alone. It’s more that your family is connected. But I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.”

“We can figure that out.” Harry cast around for a question; there was a question he needed to ask.

“What can the dead do?”

It was Lysander asking that, Luna’s young boy who’d gone quite pale, but he looked up at Death calmly. “We know that they can do magic, but what else can they do?”

“Most warding cannot hold them. You have some here in this house, so you will be safe. They cannot be killed, but they can be subdued—knocked unconscious, that sort of thing.”

“What did you use for warding?” Sirius asked.

“We haven’t put on much since we moved here,” Ginny answered. “Suppose it came with the house.”

“Why don’t you ask the architect?”

Harry frowned. “Sirius, this is Grimmauld Place.”

His godfather’s eyes widened. “Sorry, what?” He looked around in shock. “Wow. You’ve done quite a number on it. It feels like a home.”

That warmed Harry’s heart.

“Right”. Moody clapped his hands. “We need to get to work here. Time to put people back where they belong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay, I got an icky cold.   
> So tell me, who are you most excited about being back? Who do you think I should have left?   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	12. Council of the Cousins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone settles down, and the cousins make decisions about what they will do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies for this being late--I was sick and then away, and putting up a new chapter (even one I'd already written) felt impossible. Enjoy!

Ginny looked around. For the first time in thirty years, all of her brothers were in the same room. That in itself was shocking.

            Seeing her in-laws, who’d been dead for nearly fifty years, was another level of surprise.

            Still, she was her father’s daughter, and she could deal well with surprises.

            “Kids, would you mind terribly if you went upstairs?”

            Twenty-five pairs of eyes looked at her.

            “Are you going to keep secrets?” Lorcan asked suspiciously.

            “No.” That was Harry. “It’s just that—” He swallowed.

            Ginny understood. Was there a way to tell your children that you wanted time alone with their dead relatives that didn’t sound horribly selfish?

            “It’s okay, Dad.” James—Jamie, their son, who looked so different from his namesake with his long red hair—waved to the others. “Of course we’d like to chat with them, but you can have your turn first. You’ll tell us everything important, right?”

            “Promise,” Ginny said. _Like we always do, in the end._

            It took quite a while for all of them to leave, and there were more chairs now. Ginny sat on Harry’s lap though, unwilling to move away from her husband for too long. A silence fell over the group as everyone settled into their chairs. 

            “You’ve got gray hair.”

            James Potter was looking at Harry with surprise. “Actual gray hair.”

            Harry smiled. “Yeah. It just started coming in this year.”

            “Marvellous.”

            “I suppose we need to catch you up—” Hermione started.

            “No need, Hermione.” Fred grinned. “Georgie’s got us up to date.”

            “What?” Angelina looked at George. “When did that happen?”

            George twisted his fingers. “I…talk to Fred sometimes. It helps. I can never hear anything back, and I wasn’t sure anything was coming through.”

            “Blimey, of course it was. I know all the gossip.” Fred smirked, but it was gentle. “You’ve all done a wonderful job of rebuilding.”

            Harry snorted. “Right, of course. That’s why this is happening all over again.”

            “It doesn’t look that way to me,” Lily Potter said. “It looks like you’re much better off this time. Just like you were better off than we were when we first started to fight.”

            Ginny took Harry’s hands. “I suppose we thought we might have stopped it for good, Mrs. Potter.”

            “I reckon you can’t completely stop anything for good. Best you can do is learn from the last time. And you carried my son’s babies, you’re more than entitled to call me Lily.” Lily smiled. “Gosh, it’s still hard to believe we’re grandparents, isn’t it Jay?”

            Harry squeezed Ginny’s hands. “You’re young enough to be our children,” he choked out. “Jamie’s older than you.”

            Ginny swallowed, and James Potter blinked back tears.

            “What has George not told you?” Ron asked at last. “Do you have any questions?”

            “Do you have any leads at all about who’s done this?”

             “Maia and Susan have been working on it. We know Ivy Tyler was working with someone else, but we’re just not sure. Draco talked to everyone in the prison, right?”

            Draco nodded. He’d been staring at Snape this entire time, but he looked away. “Yeah. I think that kid Davy—I think he knows more than he’s letting on. But Veritaserum only told us that he knew something was happening.”

            “So it’s like the New Death Eaters, now joined by the originals. Lovely.”

            “Same assholes, new paint.” Moody’s magical eye was still in his head, and it was spinning wildly. “And some of you are working on the Runes, right?”

            “Can I help?” Cedric asked. “I was good at Runes.”

            “We need as many pairs of eyes as we can get,” Hermione said. “And we need to protect people as best we can.”

            “What’s happening with the students at Hogwarts?” Remus asked.

            “They’ve been evacuated. The school’s almost recovered from the last fight, but it’s too big a target. Ernie Macmillan and Terry Boot are with the students now, along with my wife and children.” Neville was tense, saying that, and Ginny ached for him. He and Hannah had been nearly inseparable their entire relationship, and Bailey and Alice were his world.

            “I’m surprised you aren’t there yourself, Neville. Being Headmaster and all. Congratulations.”

            Neville flushed. “Thank you, Professor Lupin.” 

            “You’ve been brilliant, so we’ve heard.”

            “You’re Headmaster, Longbottom?”

            Ginny clenched her fists. Snape was staring at Neville as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

            But Neville, instead of being angry or cowering (the latter wasn’t likely but Ginny knew all too well how childhood hurt you), smiled. “I am, yes. Headmaster Longbottom. And I would be with my students right now if I thought I’d be more good to them there. But Ernie’s Deputy Head, and he’s there with his husband. The kids will be alright, and they’ll be well out of the line of fire.”

            Snape nodded. “That’s wise.”

            Neville raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t say anything.

            “What about the Ministry?” Tonks asked. “There’s a load of valuable stuff there.”

            “Not right now. All of it’s been dispersed.” Audrey smiled at Tonks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Tonks.”

            “Pleasure to meet you too, Madam Minister.” Tonks smiled, and it was Teddy’s smile, of course it was. Maia smiled like her father. How had Ginny forgotten that? “But no one’s in the Ministry?”

            “Until we knew their plans, we thought it would be best to just leave. There’s another way into the Department of Mysteries if we have a need.”

            “There is?” Ginny asked, startled.

            “It’s secret; only Edith Rawlings knows it. But that’ll come in handy when we solve the runes.”

            “You seem very confident, Audrey.”

            “You can hide a lot of fear under confidence, I’ve found.” Audrey’s lovely face crumpled just a bit. “My daughters are in terrible danger. My whole family is in terrible danger. I’ve got to believe we’ll get out of it, or I might go mad.”

            Ginny understood the feeling. She could hear the kids moving about upstairs, and her heart broke. Their family was back, however brief it might be; they should be celebrating. Her son was going to be a father, for goodness sake!

            She leaned back against Harry’s chest. “How did you all do it?” she whispered. “How the hell did you face the children you raised and know they might endure what you endured?”

            “It’s a special kind of agony,” her mother answered. “But you have to be brave for them, and give them what protection you can.”

            Sirius nodded. “That’s why we’re back. You’re not the young ones anymore, but you were ours, once. We didn’t want you on your own.”

******************

            Upstairs, there was a Council of the Cousins going on.

            It was Lily Luna’s turn to chair, and she looked around at her cousins and their significant others. Lou’s Bert was the only one not there—he and his wife had taken their children and run. There were enough dead Fortescues.

            “Alright, come to order. Who’s staying and why? And who’s going?”

            Freddie was trembling, his newborn son in his arms. “Shouldn’t—shouldn’t we all stay? That’s what people would expect.”

            “We don’t give a toss what people think, remember Freddie?” Lily said gently. Freddie’s medication dosage had been changed just the week before, and he always got ‘shivery’ when there was a change. Seeing his long-dead namesake probably wasn’t helping. “This is about being useful. We never wanted the war to come, but it’s happening, and we need to face it properly, without the parents having to make decisions for us. I know they don’t want to.”

            “I’m going to go,” James said. “With Abby and the baby. I can’t...I won’t leave them.”

            “Okay, I’ll write that down. Shall we go in order of age? Vic?”

            “Maia—sorry, love, Teddy—and I will leave with the children as well.”

            “Nicky?”

            As her cousins and their partners answered, Lily wrote it down. It was all pretty straightforward until it came to Al and Scorpius.

            “I’m staying, but Scorpius isn’t.”

            “The hell I’m not! What do you mean?” Scorpius looked aghast, and Lily didn’t blame him. Al wasn’t usually bossy.

            “Scorp, I love you. I love you so much, but your family used to be Death Eaters, and that’s going to matter to the returning dead. You know it will. What do you think they’ll do?”

            “What do you think they’ll do to you?”

            “That’s why I’m not going to fight,” Al said calmly. “I’ll stay safe; Aunt Angelina needs help keeping up the wards in Muggle places. I can do that safely.” He touched Scorpius’ arm. “I promise love, I’ll stay alive. We have dreams together, I won’t leave you to do them alone. But I need to know that you’re safe.”

            Scorp buried his face in Albus’ shoulder. “Then I’m taking my grandparents with me. They’ll be in just as much danger. Mum and Dad can look after themselves, but I don’t think they can.”

            “We’ve got to let them decide, remember?” Lily Luna said. “Alright. Rose?”

            Soon it was down to her, the youngest before the twins. “I’m going to stay,” she said. She looked at her lovers. “What do you all want to do?”

            “I want to go to St. Mungo’s and help,” Danny said. Alice was getting older now, but she perched on Danny’s shoulder like a champion. “I know some of the patients there on the 4th floor. They trust me.”

            “I thought St. Mungo’s was evacuated,” Molly said.

            “Not exactly. They put up barriers so that it would look evacuated, but the patients are still there. Too much shifting of delicate patients.”

            “How do you know that, Danny?” Leila asked.

            “I’m still technically a patient there. They needed to let me know. But I can go and stay there. Lei, what about you?”

            “I want to stay and help with fighting, for sure.”

            Lily nodded. Her girlfriend had excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts; she and Hugo were tied for the final mark. “And Tilly?”

            Tilly looked down. “I’m guessing you’re staying, Lils?”

            “Definitely.” Lily felt a fierce anger she’d never known fill her veins. “I want to find out who’s done this, and I want to make them pay.” The memory of her mother crying when she found out Abby was pregnant, crying from fear and not from joy, wouldn’t leave her anytime soon.

            “Right. I think—I want to stay. I’m just not sure where to go. I’ve never been good at fighting like you lot. I almost failed your Dad’s class in my fourth year, remember?”

            “No you didn’t, Dad never fails anyone.”

            “I know. That almost makes it worse.” Tilly looked morose. “This is all horrible. I never thought this could happen.”

            “None of us did.”

            “That’s not really what I mean. I didn’t grow up with the memory of the war; the first time I heard about it was when I was fifteen years old. And it all seemed so…so far away. I thought everything was sorted. I know it’s stupid, I know there’s bad things going on all over the world, and this is another, but somehow I felt like…like I knew where the future was going.”

            Lily took her hand. “Matilda Ascough, that’s not a bad thing to think. I suppose we all thought it too. Now it’s happening, though, and we have to choose how to meet it. Whatever you decide, I love you.”

            Tilly cleared her throat. “I think I might go to the shelter while this is going on. I’ll help out with the kids, good practice, right? And I can take care of Eris for you.”

            “I think that sounds wonderful.” Lily’s throat was tight too—Leila was the only one who would stay with her, then. The others would be out of reach, and even though that meant out of harm’s way, it still hurt.

            “Lorcan, Lysander?” she asked at last.

            “I don’t think we do decide,” Lorcan said. “Mum and Dad are still in charge of us, you know.”

            “Okay. Can you help Tilly with how to take care of Eris?”  

Name

| 

Decision  
  
---|---  
  
Victoire Weasley Lupin

| 

We’ll be going into hiding with our children. We won’t be with the Hogwarts group, somewhere else, and we can host anyone else with kids.  
  
Teddy | Maia Lupin  
  
Nicky Weasley

| 

I’ll be staying to help with the Runes.  
  
Lara Cassiano

| 

I will join the Potterwatch team [note: Dad hates that name], and make sure that we cover events as they unfold. I’m used to being in danger.  
  
Freddie Weasley

| 

Since we have Jean-Georges, we’re going to try and get back to France and work with the international community and Gabrielle, especially since someone came back in France.  
  
Rita Scamander-Weasley  
  
Pierre Dwayne  
  
Roxanne Blythe

| 

We’re going to stay at Hogwarts to run research for the major groups. We have plenty of hiding places, and we don’t want to send Kitty away, not when she’s finally better.   
  
Nat Blythe  
  
Lou Delacour

| 

I want to fucking fight Death Eaters.  
  
James Potter

| 

Because of Abby’s pregnancy, we’ll be going into hiding with Victoire and Maia.  
  
Abby Wood-Potter  
  
Al Potter

| 

I’m going to stay and help with finding who did this.  
  
Scorpius Malfoy

| 

I’ll be going into hiding with the Hogwarts group. My grandparents will also be going with me.  
  
Rose Granger-Weasley

| 

I’m going to work with Aunt Angelina and Grandpa to deal with Muggle safety as things go on.  
  
Lucy Weasley

| 

I’m going to eat the world. No Lily, I didn’t mean that. Lily how the hell are you writing this all verbatim? Whatever. I’ll stay here and fight, I’ll probably work with you, Rosie.  
  
Iris Dursley

| 

I’m going to stay with Lucy and my Dads. Jacob and Dev are coming soon to help with Muggle safety too.  
  
Lily Luna Potter

| 

I want to stay here and help; I like Runes, I’m willing to help with that, or I could fight. I’m okay with fighting.  
  
Leila Marcos

| 

I’ll be staying to help with the Runes.  
  
Tilly Ascough

| 

I’m going to help out at the Shelter and make sure everyone is safe.  
  
Danny McEvoy

| 

I’m going to help at St. Mungo’s.  
  
Hugo Granger-Weasley

| 

I’m going to stay and help with the Runes. I also want to look into the perpetrators; there’s not a ton of art to do, but I can try to help.  
  
Ricky Mills

| 

I’m going to stay and help Hugo, since I don’t know much about anything. I’ll stay in contact with magical creatures  
  
Lorcan Scamander

| 

It’s up to Mum and Dad.  
  
Lysander Scamander  
  
            Dad looked at the list. “You lot have been busy.” He passed it to Mum.

            “We wanted to help,” Lily said.

            Dad had tears in his eyes. “What sort of a father am I if I don’t insist on all of you hiding?”

            Lily hugged him. “You’re the kind of father who lets his kids make their own decisions. That’s a good thing.”

            All the parents were looking at each other.

            “Alright,” Dad said at last. “I suppose you’re the young ones, now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because of the delay, the next chapter will be up tomorrow (it's a long one, so it's good for it to be on a weekend day).   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	13. Family Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this long chapter, there's some family bonding...well, mostly family bonding! And sadly, some goodbyes.

“You can take until dawn to be with your families,” Death said. “To say your farewells. That will be fine. I can see that much.”

Harrys’ heart thumped painfully fast. “That’s…thank you.” He could pull an all-nighter, he’d done it before.

“If we’re going to do that, we’ll need some of this.” Nicky yanked a pouch out of her bag, the size of a large spider. It was shaped like one too.

Ron winced. “What the hell is that?”

“Technically it’s tea made from spider legs,” Nicky said. “It’s the Sun-Shimmer spider from the Amazon. They shed their legs like starfish, and when you boil them down it makes quite a nice drink, and it gives you loads of energy. One sip and you don’t need sleep for two days.”

“No fucking bloody way am I drinking that.”

“It’s just spiders, Uncle Ron.” Lara looked innocent. “What’s wrong with that?”

Nicky broke into laughter. “Damn it, Lara. You’ve got to stop making that face.”

“It isn’t spider legs, then?” Ron asked indignantly.

“Of course not! The Sun-Shimmer is a plant.”

“Then why is it in a spider bag?”

“Because I love spiders.”

Ron shook his head. “I’m still trying to work out how we’re related, you and I.”

The last of the purple had faded from Teddy’s hair, and he grabbed hold of Harry the minute that they both drank the tea.

“Harry, I want your solemn word on something.”

            “Anything,” Harry said.

            “If Voldemort asks you to kill yourself, promise you won’t do it.”

            Harry sighed. “Teddy, I already made that promise.”

            Whatever answer Teddy was expecting, it wasn’t that. His godson blinked.

            “I made that promise to you and your siblings the day you were born.” Harry swallowed. “I’m alive because my parents died protecting me.” He smiled at his mum and dad. “But they faced a very particular choice. If I am faced with that, I will—don’t, Teddy, because I know you would too if the time comes—but I will do everything to avoid that happening. And I could never do that again. Do you know why?”

            Teddy shook his head.

            “I have the dubiously honourable experience of doing that before. I saw what Voldemort tried to do to the people I left behind. He’s a fucking liar, and I would never trust his mercy towards my family. Do you understand?”

            “Yes.” Teddy rushed him then, and Harry caught him in practiced arms. “Thank you, Bear. Try—try to be here when we get back, alright?”

            “I will do everything in my power,” Harry promised, his throat thick. When he released Teddy, he stepped away and clapped his hands.

            Right, we need a quick history review. Some of you lot were my students, so I expect good answers, alright?”

            “Sure, Dad.” James had his hand on Abby’s stomach. “Show-off.”

            Harry rolled his eyes. “MacNair. What do we know?”

            “Hates animals.”

            “But he works well with them.”

            “He’s a follower, not a leader.”

            “He’s not very good at duelling.”

            Harry nodded. “Watch out for Dark Creatures around him. Augustus Rookwood?”

            “Worked in the Department of Mysteries.”

            “Smart enough to stay calm with Voldemort.”

            “Only got caught because of Karkaroff’s information.”

            “Died in a duel with three others.”

            Harry nodded, then pressed his lips together. “Rookwood needs to be contained, and contained quickly. Now…Bellatrix Lestrange.”

            The room went silent.

            “Murder the bitch,” Teddy finally snarled.

            “Agreed,” Harry answered. “But you have to be careful with her. She’s…she has no conscience, and nothing is important to her beyond making Voldemort happy and causing pain. She’s dangerous, and she’s caused more than enough damage to this family.” 

            “What are the rules, here?” Nicky asked.

            “Rules?” Harry asked. “What do you mean?”

            “Are there any spells off the table?”

            “You’re talking about the Cruciatus Curse, aren’t you Nicky?” Teddy said. “I was wondering the same thing.”

            Harry took a deep breath. He had to tread carefully here, because he couldn’t be a hypocrite, he couldn’t lie, and he couldn’t let the children in front of him make the same mistake.

            “I’m not going to stand here and say that you can’t use a spell I once used myself. All I can say is that Unforgiveable Curses take a toll, no matter how justified it feels. I don’t regret what I did to Amycus Carrow, but I do know that something still feels wrong in my magic.”

            Nicky rolled her eyes. “Uncle Harry, why didn’t you say something? It’s just curse residue, I can treat that for you.”

            Harry blinked. “Seriously?”

            “Yeah. I’ve got the supplies on me. We’re all going to need some is my guess.”

            “Well then,” Harry said. He paused. “We’re at war, and I have a feeling the Aurors will look the other way for Unforgiveables on the Death Eaters…especially in certain cases.” He locked eyes with Teddy, and then with Neville. “I’m not going to tell you not to do this. All I’m going to say that in order for it to work, you have to really mean it. It’s not enough to be angry, it’s not enough to want justice. You need to want to watch them be in agony. And I don’t know if any of you are capable of it. So be careful if you try to do that.”

            The kids were quiet again.

            “Don’t put yourself in danger to get satisfaction,” Harry said hoarsely. “Because it’s never worth it. But if you have the chance…I suppose you should take it, if you want it.”

            “Will you be angry with us, Dad?” Al asked .

            “No. Never. I promise.”

            “I think we might need to take a break for a while,” Hermione suggested. “We’ve got time, and we’ve got a chance here to spend time with our family.”

            “Good idea, Mione,” Harry said gratefully.

“Well,” Harry’s mum said. “If we’re going to get to know each other, I want to hear stories. Fred’s told us some, but there’s always more than one person could ever tell.”

            “Where do we start?” Harry asked.

            His dad looked thoughtful. “I dunno…do any of you play Quidditch?”

            Harry threw up his hands before anyone could speak. “Hold on!”

            “Dad, we can talk about Quidditch _now_ ,” Lily said exasperatedly.

            “Are you going to be good poppets about it?”

            “Uncle Harry, we’re all _grownups_ —”

“Are you going to be good poppets?” Harry repeated.

            The cousins looked at each other.

            “We can,” Roxy said at last.

            “Jay, stop teasing our son!”

            Harry looked at his dad, who was doubled over with silent laughter. “You bloody knew, didn’t you?”

            “George has told us a lot of stories about that,” Fred smirked. “Poor Harry, dealing with all that nonsense.”

            “I about put them all in detention Lily’s third year.” Harry glared at them both. “It was getting stupid.”

            “We just got a bit competitive,” Rose insisted. “We were still friends.”

            “It didn’t sound like that most of the time,” Ron grumbled.

            Rose just grinned. “I’m pretty sure Al became the favourite cousin that year.”

            “I can’t fly at all,” Al explained.

            “So how are you and Scorpius getting around to make your maps?”

            “I just ride on his broom.”

            “That settles that question.” Lily Luna held out her hand to Freddie. “Pay me.”

            “Shut _up_ , Lily!” Albus snapped, cheeks flushing.

            “This doesn’t sound like good poppet talk,” Harry said quickly. “Before we do break off, does anyone have any questions?” He was torn, because spending time with his family was all he’d wanted, but this was war. Nobody there was going to walk in unprepared if he could help it.

“You know, if we’re going to fight, maybe we should have some practice duelling,” Al suggested. “The proper way.”

            “There is no proper way,” Harry answered. “That only happens in arenas.” _And graveyards…_

“Yeah, but it could be interesting. Go on, Dad, please?”

            “For—fine. Do you want to duel me?”

            “Fuck no.”

            “Language!” Hermione scolded. “There are littles around.”

            “They have to get used to it sooner or later, Auntie,” Al argued, and he grinned when Hermione scowled at him. “No, I think you should duel Draco, Dad. He hasn’t had as much practice lately.”

            Harry looked at Draco, who looked slightly taken aback. “What do you think?”

            Draco thought about it. “Alright. Nice to have a rematch.”

            Harry laughed. “I forgot about that stupid Duelling club.”

            “So did Lockhart.”

            “ _Ronald!”_

“He was going to Obliviate Harry and I!” Ron was indignant. “I can bloody make jokes!”

            “Has his condition improved?” Remus asked.

            “His short-term memory has,” Neville answered. “He remembers his name day to day, but as for his long-term…they think it’s pretty well shot for good.”

            “Shame. It’d be nice to track down the people he Obliviated.”

            “We’re making progress on that, actually Dad,” Teddy said. “We found three people that the books were about. The idiot didn’t cover his tracks all that well; unfortunately the people he Obliviated have moved around quite a bit.” 

            “I’m sure you’ll track them down.” Remus nodded to where Lucius and Angelina were busy clearing tables. “I think your godfather needs to defend his honour.”

            “I don’t need to defend anything.” Harry grinned. “My souffle beat his.”

            “Not that again, seriously?” Draco glared at him. “You only won because you put chocolate in.”

            “The rules said any flavour.” Harry shrugged as he got into position. “Though I doubt adding chocolate would have helped with your lack of poof.”

            Draco rolled up his sleeves. “You kids wanted a demonstration of proper duelling, right?”

            Harry grinned and raised his wand. “Come on then, Malfoy.”

            “Scared Potter?”

            “You wish.”                                                                             

            Draco grinned. “Are we going to do the stupid bowing thing?”

            Harry bowed his head. “You can if you like.”

            Draco inclined his head.

            And then they began.

            Harry’s muscle memory from being an Auror (and from being a teacher) made it a rather easy duel. Draco hadn’t duelled in years, and his spells were clumsy. He was quick enough though to leap out of reach, and Harry grinned.

            “Training for the ballet, Malfoy?”

            Draco actually laughed as he jumped aside. “Not quite, Potter.”

            Harry focused, hoping that it wouldn’t last much longer, because there were other things to do, and he wasn’t quite sure how valuable this was, other than letting off steam.

            Then Draco shot him with a Stunning spell, and before Harry could block it the spell hit him in the chest. Pain exploded, and Harry went to his knees.

            “Dad?!”

            Lily Luna knelt beside him, and Harry wanted to reassure her, but he couldn’t quite speak. Breathing was difficult in itself.

            “Harry!”

            “Give me—a minute—” Harry choked out.

            He drew in a shaky breath, and forced himself to take another. _You are not going to scare your children here. You’re not._

The next breath was easier, and Harry opened his eyes. Draco was kneeling in front of him, horror in his eyes. “What did I do?”

            Harry put a hand to his chest. “Stupid,” he managed. “Should have been wearing the vest.”

            “Vest?” That was his Dad.

            Harry held out a hand and Draco immediately helped him up and into a chair. It was soft with a strong back—one of Hermione’s creations. He took another deep breath, and looked up at the anxious group. “I’ll be alright,” he promised. “It’s just going to take a few moments.”

            “What happened?”

            Harry grinned weakly at his mother, trying to reassure her. “The year before I started teaching, I got hit with Dolohov’s fire. Teddy was with me, and he managed to stop Davy, but I was completely taken by surprise, and I took four hits.”  

            “ _Four?!”_

Harry winced. “Yeah. I did make a full recovery, and I retired from being an Auror. But”— he placed a hand on the spot between his sixth and seventh rib on his left side—“this spot still gives me some trouble. I usually wear a vest when I do practical teaching, but it’s been a long time since it’s actually hurt. Stunning spells seem to be the worst.”

            “I’m so sorry—”

            “Don’t be stupid, Draco. I’ll be alright. And I should be wearing the damn vest.” Harry tried to get to his feet, but a twinge of pain sat him down again.

            “Right.” Sirius helped him up. “You need to lie down, mate. Drink a Strengthening Potion, maybe?”

            “I can get one for you in ten minutes, Dad,” James said. He darted off.

            “There you are, then.”

            “I can—”

            “You need to rest,” Sirius interrupted him. “Come on, let’s get you lying down, and then your kid can give you a potion     and you’ll be right as rain.”

            Harry knew there was no point fighting anymore, so he gave Draco a reassuring smile and let Sirius help him out of the room.

            “Is there a bedroom on this floor?” Sirius asked.

            “Guest room, yeah. Over there.”

            It was the room Andromeda used when she came to visit; her legs were starting to pain her. It was a sunny room decorated with as many colourful birds as possible.

            “God, I forgot how much Andy loved birds,” Sirius said as he helped Harry lie down. “Who made them?”

            “Ginny and Luna and Al made them one day,” Harry answered. He felt much better now that he was lying down, as much as he didn’t want to admit it.

            “Beautiful.” Sirius went to the door. “Do you want this closed?”

            Harry found himself close to tears again for the umpteenth time that week. “Yes, I’d…that would be okay.”

            Sirius swung the door shut. “You need a couple minutes to absorb, don’t you?”

            “It’s…” Harry closed his eyes for a moment. “It’s wonderful, but it’s a lot. All of it.”

            “I know,” Sirius said quietly. “I know this is hard.”

            Harry looked away. “I thought—I thought it was over. I thought we could get along with life, without another major crisis.”

            “That would be nice. Maybe this is the last one? Third time’s the charm?”

            “Whatever happens, it needs to be over soon,” Harry said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, but Sirius put a hand on his shoulder.

            “Mate, you need to rest until that potion is ready.”

            “I’m fine!”

            “Then why are you still in pain?”

            Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

            “You can wait, Harry.” Sirius sat down on the bed. “So...you’ve done very well for yourself. You should be very proud.”

            “Thank you.” Harry swallowed. He’d wanted to say this for over three decades, but now that he had a chance, he didn’t know how to start. “Sirius…”

            “What is it?”

            “Sirius, I’m so sorry.”

            “Oh Harry. No, no.” Sirius held Harry against his chest. “No, it wasn’t your fault.”

            “If I’d just—”

            “Harry, you were being abused in your Occlumency lessons, and that actually made it worse. On top of that, all of the adults you trusted at Hogwarts were gone. Meanwhile, I was an adult, and I should have listened too.”

            “You were trapped and you felt helpless,” Harry argued. “You did what you thought was right.”

            “I also underestimated my cousin,” Sirius answered. “And to be perfectly frank I had no idea that the Veil was so dangerous. I definitely wouldn’t have been standing there if I’d known.”

            Harry actually laughed. “What a stupid reason to die.”

            “I know, mate.” Sirius held him a moment longer. “I’m so proud of you, you know.”

            “Really?”

            “Of course I am!” Sirius pulled away. “Harry, look at this world you’ve helped to build. Look at your family, and the way you’ve raised them. Look at this house. It actually feels like a home.”

            “I really wanted that,” Harry said. “After the war, I just needed…I needed to come home to something real. The people in the place are important, but I wanted it to be somewhere they wanted to be, you know?”

            “I completely understand that.” Sirius looked at him curiously. “You know, Draco seemed very upset that he hurt you.”

            “We’re friends now, Sirius.”

            “And I think that’s brilliant,” Sirius said quickly. “It just seems odd.”

            “I suppose you and Snape haven’t made up yet?”

            Sirius snorted. “He and your mum haven’t made up yet. They get into shouting matches every time he tries to come and visit. Shame, really. It messes up the timing for our pranks.”

            “I never should have named Al after him.” Harry shook his head. “I should have—”            

            “You were twenty-six, Harry,” Sirius said patiently. “You were young and a nearly-new father. You didn’t understand yet. That’s alright. Besides, you’ve given him so many wonderful things, you were bound to fuck up at least one thing. And now he’s engaged to your former arch-enemy’s son, who was my arch-enemy’s godson. I’m impressed. I could never have done that. Grudges have always been comfortable for me.”

            “I thought that’s how it was going to be,” Harry admitted. “But I suppose we both grew up and got tired of it.”

            “That’s my boy.”

            Suddenly Harry remembered something he’d wanted to say for over a decade. “Oh, Sirius—I found out a word for what I am.”

            “A word for what?”

            “For…well, not necessarily wanting sex.”

            “Ah. What is it?”

            “Demisexual. I do feel sexual attraction, but only when I love someone a lot.”

            “Like your Ginny.” Sirius grinned. “That’s grand, Harry. I’m glad you’ve got a word. I’m assuming you like it?”

            “The first time I heard it, I realized I didn’t have to explain myself to _myself_ anymore,” Harry answered. “It felt good. And it was good to understand.”

            “So you enjoy sex, in the end. That’s good!”

            Harry blushed.

            “You have three children and three god-grandchildren, with another on the way.” Sirius smirked. “That’s plenty of time to get over blushing about sex, Harry.”

            There was a knock on the door, and James poked his head in. “Dad, you okay?”

            Harry nodded. “The pain’s almost gone, Jamie, I—”

            “Will drink this, so it will go all the way away,” James said firmly, handing him a potion. Harry didn’t protest any further—there was no point when his son had that expression on his face.

            “It’s nice to meet you, Jamie,” Sirius said. “Properly, I mean. George has told us lots, but seeing you in person is different.”

            “So are you my god-Granddad?” James asked. “Like Dad is for Estelle and the twins?”

            “I suppose I am. That’s a mouthful, though.”

            “Well, they call Dad Grand-Bear.” James’ face lit up. “Can you be Grand-Snuffles?”

            Sirius threw his head back and laughed. “That is an excellent name, and I forbid you from calling me anything else.”

****

Dudley kept his hand in Leo’s. Iris seemed calm, chatting with Lucy and Cedric Diggory, but Dudley couldn’t help it. Getting used to magic was one thing. Being surrounded by dead people was quite another.

            “Hello Dudley.”

            Dudley turned around. It took him a second to realize that it wasn’t George Weasley. This twin had both ears.

            “Hello Fred,” Dudley said awkwardly.

            “This is your husband, right?” Fred held out his hand. “I’m Fred, the dead twin.”

            “Hi, I’m Leo.”

            Fred shifted on his feet. “Listen Dudley, I know George has already apologized, but I wanted to say sorry too.”

            “What are you saying—oh right, the tongue candy!” Dudley laughed. “That was so long ago, Fred. It’s fine. I more than deserved it then.”

            “Yeah, well…it still wasn’t right.”

            “Water under the bridge,” Dudley said. “I’m glad you’re back, at least for a while. They’ve all missed you like hell.”

            “It’s good to be back.” Fred glanced over. “Dudley, I think you should say hello to your aunt.”

            Dudley looked over at Lily. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say to her.”

            “Start with your name, and see what happens.” Fred patted his shoulder. “She’s watched over you, you know. Like she’s done with Harry.”

Before Dudley could screw up his courage, his aunt spotted him and came over, pulling her husband with her. The resemblance to Harry was startling still; well, the resemblance to Harry twenty years ago.

            “Hello Aunt Lily,” Dudley said.

            Leo squeezed his hand. “I’m going to check on Iris, darling.” He nodded to Lily and James.

            Dudley swallowed hard.

            “It’s nice to meet you, Dudley,” Aunt Lily said. She didn’t look angry; if anything, she looked said. Uncle James looked sad too.

            “I’m so sorry,” Dudley blurted out. “I was _horrible_ to your son, and—”

            “Dudley, it’s alright.”

            Dudley stared at his uncle. “It—it is?”

            Uncle James shrugged. “Do I wish you hadn’t bullied my son for more than a decade? Yeah, I do. But you’ve done the grown up thing and apologized. You’re a good man, Dudley.”

            “We’re really proud of you,” Aunt Lily said. “You’ve done great work.”

            “I’m just trying to help kids like me.”

            “You’ve helped more than you know.” Uncle James looked him straight in the eye. “Your daughter is going to do some tremendous work, and you’ve stopped several killers in their tracks.”

            “Sorry… _what?!”_

“Where we are we can sort of…see things. It’s complicated, but we can follow strangers too, and see when their futures change. You’ve helped potential abusers and murderers avoid becoming that. They’ll make something of their lives, just like you did.”

            “Leo helped a lot with me, Uncle James—sorry, should I call you that?”

            “I am your Uncle, so that seems about right.”

            “Alright. Well…yeah. I’m glad to hear I helped.”

            “We’re proud you’re our nephew,” Aunt Lily said. She held out her arms, and Dudley hugged her carefully, half-expecting her to disappear. But she didn’t—she was solid, and small and strong in his arms the way Beth and Tall Iris were.

            Dudley grinned at Uncle James, expecting a smile and a manly handshake, but Uncle James hugged him instead. Again, Dudley was struck by how similar his uncle was to his cousin, because it felt like the same kind of hug.

            Dudley looked over his uncle’s shoulder and saw his mother, and tensed.

            Aunt Lily followed his gaze, and there was profound sadness in her eyes. It was only matched by rage.

            “Do you want to say anything to her?” Dudley whispered.

            “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Aunt Lily answered.

            “It doesn’t have to be a good idea.” Dudley pulled away from his uncle. “I think you just have to want it.”

            His aunt pressed her lips together. “Jay, take my wand, will you?”

            “Why the hell are you giving me two weapons?” Uncle James winced. “Sorry, Dudley, I know she’s your Mum.”

            “She’s tried,” was all Dudley could say.

            “She didn’t try hard enough,” Aunt Lily answered. She raised her voice. “Petunia, if you want to say something you should do it now.”

            To Dudley’s surprise, his mother did come over. She was biting her lip, and she looked genuinely frightened.

            “I’m not going to hurt you, Petunia,” Lily said.

            “No promises on my end.”

            “James…”

            “I know, Lils. I’ll stop.”

            Aunt Lily put her hands on her hips. “Go ahead, Petunia.”

            “I fucked up.”

            Dudley’s eyes widened. He’d never heard his mother curse. Not ever.

            “Yes, you did. You tormented my _son_ , your _nephew_ , for years! You didn’t give him a home, you gave him _nothing_ but bad memories and fear. You didn’t even stand between him and your husband when he—”

            “I was afraid. I wanted to help him—”

            “No, you didn’t. You wanted to stop feeling guilty about me. And all you did was compound your guilt, again and again.” Lily shook her head. “You and Severus…you were my first friends, and you betrayed me, and you betrayed my child.”

            “I know. I don’t—I would take it back if I could.”

            Aunt Lily laughed. It sounded like a sob. “Well, that’s better than Severus. He’s maintained all this time that he would do the same, because it was best for Harry.”

            “I never thought about what was best for Harry,” Mum said. “I thought about my fear, and my envy, and my child, and I neglected him and frightened him and abused him. All I can do now is tell the truth, and do my best to love my grand-daughter now that she is in this world. She’s braver than I ever was—and so is my son.”

            “We can agree on that.” Aunt Lily folded her arms. “I honestly don’t know what to say, Petunia. I can’t forgive you now, I just can’t.”

            “So…” Mum hesitated. “Is there ever a chance for forgiveness, then?”

            “Spend the rest of your life making up for what you did,” Aunt Lily answered. “Love your grand-daughter and her children. Make things better for Harry and his kids. Do something about your husband. Then…well, we may meet someday, on the other side. I’ll see what I can do then.” Her expression wavered. “Petunia, I’m tired of being angry with you, so stop giving me more reasons.”

            “That’s fair.” Mum looked at Aunt Lily. “I am sorry for what I did to you, Lily. I should never have been so cruel.”

            “That much I can forgive. We were children, and then I was at war. It’s what you did as an adult I can’t forgive.”

            “I don’t know that I will ever forgive either,” Uncle James piped up. “Then again, we never got along. We don’t ever have to meet up again, as long as you leave my son the fuck alone. Otherwise I’ll track you down personally.”

            “I’d want you to,” Mum replied.

*************

“Hello Mum,” Maia said awkwardly—because she was Maia again. The last few hours had been so bloody confusing— it was no surprise she’d kept changing gender. Hell, the last few days felt like a strange fever dream.

            But her Mum and Dad were here, and she didn’t want it to be a dream.

            “Hello, sweetheart.”

            Mum was younger than her now, and that seemed wrong. Dad was only a few years older. Standing there, though, Maia couldn’t help but feel childish again.

            “I like your hair,” Dad said.

            Maia touched her long purple braids. “You do?”

            “Yes I do. Purple’s my favourite colour.”

            “I didn’t know that,” Maia said. “I didn’t know.” _Because Bear didn’t know, and neither did Gran, or anyone else. Why would you ask someone their favourite colour—why would that be a priority? Just in case they died and left their child wondering?_

Mum stepped forward and took her hands. “Oh Maia, we are so, _so_ sorry.”

            “You did the right thing.”

            “Maybe, but—”

            “No, Mum. I get it.” Maia did get it now, even when she knew she would make a different decision. “You wanted to fight for me, together. You made a good choice.”

            Dad blinked hard. “It’s not the choice you’re making.”

            “It’s not because I’m angry at you, or Mum. I just—I’ve spent a long time fighting on the front lines for my children, and this time I need to be there. I want to be there with Vic.” Maia grinned. “There are three of them, after all.”

            Mum hugged her tight. Maia buried her face in her mother’s shoulder and breathed deep. To her shock, her mother had a smell; she smelled like sharp mint and sweet roses.

            “My favourite tea and the shampoo I like,” Mum said, stroking Maia’s hair.

            “How did you—”

            “Your Dad has the same nose,” Mum answered.

            Dad grinned. “There are some benefits to being a werewolf.” He paused. “Maia, have you ever—”

            Maia shook her head. “I like rare steak and I have a good nose, but other than that, no. I suppose I get more cross around full moons, but that’s not too bad. Vic just knows I need chocolate.”

            Dad hugged her then, and Maia closed her eyes. Chocolate and parchment. “That’s my girl,” he whispered in her ear.

            Maia looked up. “You don’t mind then—either of you?”

            “Of course not. Didn’t my Mum tell you about my other identity?” Her mother squinted for a moment, and then her face shifted into a man’s face. “I think it comes with the territory, sweetheart. And I love your name. The Pleiades are my favourite constellation.”

            Maia smiled. “I knew I should have some kind of myth name, especially stars.” That made her think of Estelle, and she looked over at her children, still gathered around Victoire. “Would you like to meet your grandchildren?”

            “We’d love to,” Dad answered.

            The three of them came over. Estelle curled shyly into Victoire, but Sol and Alcmene both made grabby hands. Mum and Dad each took a twin.

            “Hullo there,” Dad whispered to Alcmene. “I’m your Grandpa, little moon.”

            “Hi Grandpa,” Alcmene said. She touched his face. “You have chocolate?”

            Remus laughed out loud.

            “Sorry, Dad, I—”

            “That’s an excellent legacy, Maia, don’t worry.”

            Mum sat down with Sol in her lap, and Estelle scooted over to her, shyness faded. “You all are,” she whispered. “I suppose we did alright, Remus.”

*******

Dawn came much too quickly, and soon Death appeared. “I’m afraid it’s time to leave.”

            Harry bit his lip. Saying goodbye had always been a grand affair with their family; so many families, so many groups. So many people who remembered bad final goodbyes.

            The room split off into groups. Harry approached James and Abby, who were both trembling.

            Harry pulled them both into his arms. “You’ll be safe,” he whispered. “You’ll be safe, and you’ll be home before you know it.”

            “Promise to be careful?” Abby whispered. “All of you?”

            “We will do everything in our power to make sure we come together as a family again,” Harry answered. He kissed her head. “You focus on taking care of yourself and the baby, okay? Feel free to boss my son about a bit.”

            James didn’t laugh. He buried his face in Harry’s shoulder, and as Abby stepped away Harry held him close. “Jamie, it’s going to be alright.”

            “What if—what if there are more empty chairs, when we get back?”

            Harry closed his eyes, resting his cheek on his son’s head. “You know that I will always love you, son. We will all always love you. No matter what happens, or where we are, you will always have our love.”

            “I want to have you,” Jamie whispered.

            “And we’ll do everything in our power to make sure it happens. Everything, okay? And you’ll come back, and we can have a baby shower for you and Abby. It’ll be brilliant.”

            Ginny was standing next to them now. “We’ll do something up really nice. You’ll see—and who knows? The baby might just get their own peacock.”

            Jamie pulled away and tried to smile. “Just in case…I just want you to know that if the baby’s a girl, we’re going to name her Daisy. And if it’s a boy, we’re going to name him Leo.”

            Ginny’s favourite flower. Harry’s favourite animal.

            Ginny drew James close, weeping, and Harry hugged him too.

            _Why is this happening?_

******

            Iris hugged Lucy. “I’ll be back soon, darling.”

            Lucy eyes were like flint with anger—sharp and ready to create flames. “You will, and I’ll be here waiting for you. I promise.” She shot a quick glance at Iris’ grandparents. “You don’t have to go with them, you know.”

            “Yes I do. My dads are going with them, and you know I’m still not very good at potions. I’ll practice while I’m there, and I’ll work on the TV screen.”

            “You’ve got all the notes?”

            “I’ve got copies of all of them in my phone,” Iris replied. “I’m going to print that out when we get into hiding. Your Mum promised there’d be one.”

            “Good.” Lucy kissed her again, and Iris kissed her back as hard as she could. It was all well and good to know that her girlfriend was brilliant and dangerous with a wand. Magic had always seemed so wonderful to Iris, but now Lucy was going up against people who would use it as a weapon. It felt wrong, not only because her great-aunt was here, and the same age as her. That was actually sort of cool, but the amount of weeping people in the room told her that nothing was alright. They were all going to get hurt, and it was going to be bad.

            Lucy kissed her forehead. “I’ll take care of Dev and Jacob, okay? You go on with your family, and when you get back…”

            “When I get back?” Iris said. She had a good idea of what Lucy wasn’t saying. It was a playful thing between them.

            But this time, Lucy wasn’t smiling. “I don’t want to ask you right now, babe. But I promise I will.”

            “Not if I ask you first,” Iris teased.

            One day, she was sure, she would ask Lucy to marry her. And maybe Lucy would beat her to it, but no matter what happened they would get married.

            If she didn’t believe that, she could never let Lucy go.

******

            All too soon, all of the family came back together, with those leaving grouped together. Ginny’s heart was twisting her chest, burning like it was covered in bile. Her two oldest children were leaving for safety; her two youngest were staying to fight. She honestly didn’t know what was worse.

            “Take care of each other,” she croaked out at last. “We’ll do the same. And when we come back together, we’ll have a feast, okay?”

            That got a few smiles from her niblings. Feasts meant _feasts_ , with everyone bringing food, eating too much of it, and dancing anyways.

            “They will arrive safely,” Death said. She raised her hand. “I will return when I’ve ensured that.”

            Ginny mouthed one last goodbye, her voice gone and cheeks wet, and then they vanished.

            Harry hugged her fast, drawing her head onto his shoulder, running a hand through her short curls. “I know, Gin,” he whispered. “I know.”

            Ginny felt Al and Lily come close and hug them too, and she clung to them both. Her babies, her children…her adults. She would never stop being their mother, but she had to let them make their own paths. It didn’t make it easier to realize that her family was at war again, and everyone was in danger.

            _We lost one brother last time, with seven of us. How many will we lose this time?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed this! Don't worry, there will be some more bonding moments with the Returned later on :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	14. Discovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin the work of securing the country, but for one family's it's already too late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some pretty sad, terrible stuff at the end of this chapter. If anyone didn't want to read it, by all means skip it, and I can summarize the plot relevant stuff at the beginning of the next chapter.

 Hermione had never been one for strategy; that was why she was so terrible at chess. But her daughter was involved in this planning, and she wanted to be there.

            Even with the departures an hour ago, the house felt crammed. There was hardly enough room for everyone around the table, but they crammed in and made do.

            One of Al’s “big maps” of the United Kingdom (you could only zoom down to a city level rather than down to a particular street address) was spread out over the table. The cities and towns written in blue ink had a significant magical population; those in green had some witches and wizards; and the yellow ones had no magical residents at all.

            “How sure are you about the yellow ones?” Moody growled. “Some people don’t fill out the census, you know.”

            “That’s why Scorp and I went together, sir,” Al explained. “We went to check, and there really aren’t any. Lucy’s gone looking too, haven’t you?”

            “There aren’t even any descendants of Squibs there,” Lucy confirmed. “And I checked. It’s a bit odd, honestly. But I suppose a lot of families were more concentrated back in the day.”

            “By back in the day did you mean when your parents were kids?” Ron teased her. “This spread is really quite new. Mione and I are the only magical people in Lindfield, and the amount of times we’ve been told to move back with ‘our own’…”

            “That’s stupid.”

            “It’s tradition,” Nat said gently. “It’s tradition, and it’s from safety concerns. Those instincts take time to go away.”

            Lucy huffed, but she stayed quiet.

            “So right now the blue towns are being visited by Aurors, right?” Hermione asked.

            Harry nodded. “Teddy sent them before Voldemort came through, as a precaution. The reports are coming through, and people are going into lockdown.”

            “And my workers are headed for the green places,” Angelina said, tracing her fingers over the map. “There are Sentinels stationed in every one, and they’re ready to go.”

            “So that leaves the yellow places to sort out.”

            “Lavender’s covering Wales with her Pretties, and Cho and Professor McGonagall are working through Scotland. They could probably use some support from the Sentinels, though.”

            “I can send some that way.” Angelina drew out her mirror. “I’ll go call them now.”

            “Is Seamus in Ireland yet?” Ron asked.

            George nodded. “I got word from him an hour ago. He reckons that the leprechauns are more than enough to keep the Death Eaters out, but he and his mother have got some fairy rings ready just in case.”

            Hermione looked at the map, going over it all in her head. She’d left the Ministry over a decade ago, but she still remembered the patrol zones, the passive defenses laid down after the war.

            “The Portkey Centres are still open?”

            “Yes. We decided to send out the staff, otherwise the Secret Keeping is going to become useless.” Audrey’s hair was up in a braid, something she only did when they were doing a big cleaning project. “They can do house calls until things die down. They’re all authorized as far as Romania, and Charlie’s ready for them there. He wants to come here, but if anything happens on the Continent, he’ll be useful.”

            “Someone’s spoken to Irena, right?”

            “Viktor’s with her, and the Scamanders. Durmstrang’s fine for now.”

            “Right.” Hermione took a deep breath. These weren’t her strategies, thank goodness, but even she could remember protocol lists. “Then we’re on schedule, that’s great.”

            “It’s not ideal, but until we know more about what they want, we’re ready to respond to small events.”

            Hermione glanced over to Lily Potter—god, she and her grand-daughter could be sisters at this age—who was staring open mouthed. The other…well, they were technically dead, weren’t they? The returned dead people all looked confused, now that she was looking for it.

            “Is something wrong?” she asked urgently. “What have we missed?”

            “I don’t think you’re missing anything,” Lily said quickly. “I just think this is very thorough. Not at all like we had when we fought.”

            “Or even during the second war,” Remus added. “How on earth did you come up with it all?”

            “Well, we fought in that war, and we all fought on different fronts.” Hermione glanced at Harry, but it was Draco who spoke up.

            “I was on the opposite side too, so I knew how the Death Eaters operated, even though I was at school for most of that year.”

            “After the war we all realized that we needed to learn from the battles last time,” Harry finished. “We all got together and pooled our experience. There’s no way to make a word Taboo now, and we have these safeguards set up so that people can go into hiding and into safety more quickly. That caught a lot of people off guard last time, so now…now we can have warnings. It won’t solve everything, but it will be a start. It’s all we can really ask for.”

            “It’s a good strategy,” James said. “Well done, you lot. I really like the way you’ve got the Muggle defenses set up. We couldn’t figure out a good way to sort that out last time, but I suppose Muggle technology is starting to catch up with magic.”

            Hermione glanced at Lucy. “Lu, don’t get—”

            “I’m not going to, Aunt Hermione. Magic was ahead of Muggle technology in the eighties.” Lucy turned her attention to James. “Actually, the Muggle world’s outpaced us in a lot of ways. That’s what my friends and my girlfriend and I have been working on, helping magic integrate.”

            “Have you managed to get around the Hexsparks yet?”

            “I don’t know what you mean, sir,” Lucy said politely.

            “Right, I suppose there must be a proper name for them now. You know, when you try to transform electric parts and it sparks up at you? Those used to make Sirius and I go spare.”

            Lucy’s whole face lit up. “I thought we were just doing something wrong, because it only happens sometimes!”

            “No, it has to do with the materials involved. You can get around it, you just need to insulate—”

            “I’m sure this is fascinating, Potter,” Snape interrupted. “But I believe we need to start moving.”

            James shot him a quick, angry look (and it was so similar to Harry’s reaction that Hermione felt like they’d gone back in time), but he smoothed out his face. “Yes, we probably should. What do we do right now?”

            “I think it might be best if we spread out,” Ron said. He tapped several of the yellow places. “Some of us should go to these places, Angie, they need more Portkeys, right?”

            “Yes,” Angelina confirmed. “And then we should go on to some of the green villages. We need to check in and see if there are other people willing to be Sentinels. There’s a list of people who said they might want to participate. I suppose it’s time to find out one way or another. So we should split up…”

******

            Hermione glanced at Lily. “Do you want to take the lead, Lily?”

            The two of them and Alastor Moody were standing outside a humble cottage in Hawkshead. A magic family lived in here, two witches and their children, and they were on the volunteer list.

            But they hadn’t shown up.

            “I think you’d better do that,” Lily answered. “After all, we’re both legally dead, they might be surprised. Though I suppose they might not know what we look like…”

            “Oh, they probably do,” Hermione assured her. “When Nat’s book came out Ginny wrote a column every day for a month with an illustration Luna did of everyone in it. They’ll probably recognize you.”

            She took a deep breath. It’d been years and years since she was actually in the field. Writing textbooks didn’t tend to involve this sort of work.

            But there were those bimonthly D.A. reunions, where they trained and fought together and ate and talked about old times. Harry was firm about the training part first. “Just in case,” he always said. “I want to make sure that you can all handle yourselves.”

            Hermione took a deep breath and rolled up her sleeves. The curtains were drawn, which was unusual on that sunny day, but perhaps the children were napping.

            She knocked on the door, waited a moment, and then knocked again. There was no answer, and no obvious doorbell.

            “Hello?” Hermione called. Nothing. “ _Hominem Revilio.”_

            Nothing.

            “They must not be—” Hermione stopped when Moody grabbed his shoulder and pulled her back.

            “Oi!”

            “They’re in there,” Moody growled.

            Hermione froze. “Dead?”

            “No. They can’t be, girl.”

            “I’m almost as old as you,” Hermione snapped. But then…if they weren’t dead, and but there was no trace of humans…

            “We need to go in,” Moody said. He took a step away from Hermione. “Sorry.”

            Hermione looked around. This was a green town, there were Muggles around, and obvious magic was a bad idea.

            “Muffliato,” Lily whispered, waving her wand.

            “Come on,” Hermione said. “Is there anything dangerous still in there?”

            “Not that I can see.”

            “Alright.” Hermione swallowed hard, and opened the door.

            There were children’s toys strewn around the entryway, four sets of shoes set up neatly against the wall. There were drawings on the wall, both on paper and on the wall itself. 

            But Hermione only noticed that afterwards.

            Lying in the front room were two grown bodies and two children’s bodies. Heart in her throat, Hermione stepped forward. She made it one step and felt the cold creep up her body. An awful, familiar cold.

            “Dementors,” she rasped.

            She didn’t even want to look closer, didn’t want to see the tortured fear in the mothers’ faces as they tried to shield their children, see the blankness in the innocent eyes of the kids.

            But Hermione looked, because she had to know. She had to see. That was her way.

            One of the mother’s wand was lying on the floor, fallen from a limp hand. Hermione picked it up gingerly, and pointed her own at it.

            “Priori Incantatem.”

            A silver leopard leapt from the wand, shadowy but still corporeal. It should have been enough to fight off a Dementor.

            “We need to talk to Susan and Angelina right away,” Hermione managed. “Something is very wrong.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, it's bad, I'm sorry! Just to give some hope...there's nothing saying this can't be fixed...  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	15. To Hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily Luna, Hugo and some others go to talk to Ivy's mother...and discover an old secret.

            Lily Luna grabbed a hold of Danny the moment she was inside St. Mungo’s. Her boyfriend had only left her sight eight hours ago, but that was more than long enough without Tilly and Leila, who were off with Aunt Angelina and Roxy respectively. Long enough with all of this going on.

            “It’s alright, Blossom,” Danny promised as he held her. “We’re all fine here.”

            Lily nodded against his shoulder, but still kept a tight hold.

            Trevor Sindle floated behind them in his chair. Unlike Fiona’s, it was flexible, moving to accommodate Trevor’s shifting paralysis. Today it was his right arm and his left leg below the knee.

            Hugo was there too, and he cleared his throat loudly. “Come on, you two. We’ve got to get moving.”

            Lily moved away. “Of course,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Danny, is Mrs. Tyler there?”

            “She is. She’s waiting to see you.” Danny looked with unfailing accuracy at the figures under the Cloak. “Mr. and Mrs. Tonks, you can probably come out. This hospital’s more familiar than most places with all of the chaos.”

            Chaos. It was a good word for all of the ups and downs of the last few days. Lily still wasn’t sure how she should be feeling, how she should be reacting. Even this action was one option of so many.

            Multiple choice tests were never Lily’s favourite.

            Uncle Remus and Aunt Dora took off the Cloak.

            “Well, best get this over with,” Aunt Dora said. “I might be a bit rusty, but I remember how to interrogate people.”

            Uncle Remus and Aunt Dora took off the Cloak.

            “Well, best get this over with,” Aunt Dora said. “I might be a bit rusty, but I remember how to interrogate people.”

            There wasn’t much need for that, in the end. Mrs. Tyler, a tall woman with a world of grief on her shoulders, was only too happy to speak. The first thing she did was give Hugo permission.

            “Of course you can draw her if you like,” she said hoarsely. “She’s already agreed to be of use to make up for what she’s done.”

            “Do you know why she did this?” Uncle Remus asked. “Any hint at all? You are her mother, she might have told you something small, some kind of clue?”

            Mrs. Tyler shook her head. “I know why she did this. It’s because she inherited my cowardice.”

            Lily looked at her sharply.

            “Ivy’s father is a man who lives far away. He is not my husband now, but he was meant to be once. I slept with another man, and decided to go away with him. I lied to my fiancé in a letter and told him that the child was my new husband’s. I wasn’t even sure then, and when Ivy was five I discovered that she is my ex-fiancé’s child. And I never told him. I could never bring myself to admit that.”

            Lily slipped her hand into Danny’s.

            “Ivy found out two months ago that she has Fading Sickness,” Mrs. Tyler went on at last. “And there’s nothing they can do. She will die, and she is too afraid, too afraid even to stay on as a ghost. That’s why she did this.”

            “That’s hard to take when you’re young,” Aunt Dora said. “Mrs. Tyler, have you been Ivy’s only visitor?”

            “Fiona Tremblay has been by. Good girl, quiet.”

            “She’s my cousin’s girlfriend,” Lily said. “Molly’s girl.” _Why the hell did I say that?_

Mrs. Tyler did smile, though. “Ivy hasn’t had very many friends. She was very close with a boy at Hogwarts, but he moved away to Canada right after they graduated. So Annabelle is really her only constant friend, but she lives far away.”

            “Annabelle?”

            “Yes, Annabelle Martin. They’ve been penpals for years—it was a program through Ivy’s primary school. It’s nice for Ivy; she can write about whatever she wants.”     

            “So Annabelle is a witch?”

            “Yes. You’d call her a Muggleborn, but she’s got magical lineage. Her grandfather was a Squib, and they live in a magical community in the north of France.”

            Something tugged at Lily’s mind, something she didn’t understand.

            “Do you have a picture of Annabelle?” she asked.

            Mrs. Tyler looked through her handbag. “Yes, here. Does that help?”

            Lily examined the picture. The picture was of a woman with bright blonde hair and dark green eyes. She was leaning against a tree, bright rings on every finger.

            “She’s a bit eccentric,” Mrs. Tyler said, “but she’s been good to Ivy.”

            A man came over to the bed. “Hello, Mrs. Tyler. Danny, I think you and your friends should probably cut this short. Ivy needs to rest if she’s going to fight this.”

            “Fight it?” Lily asked, surprised. “Can she? Once the Veil is repaired, she’ll—she’ll—”

            “Perhaps.” Healer Quest smiled gently. “No one’s really looked at the Killing Curse effects over time—well, there’s never been time beyond the initial hit. And now…now we have time. We might just be able to save her.”

            For a second Lily relaxed, because that was good, wasn’t it? Maybe…well, maybe her family could be saved too. After all, Grandmother and Grandfather were killed by Avada Kedavra, maybe they could…

            But that wasn’t how things worked. Death wouldn’t let them go—it wouldn’t be fair to all the others who were mourned.

            And something was still bothering her.

            “We should go,” Lily said. She gave the picture back to Mrs. Tyler. “I’m sorry, ma’am.”

            “It’s only right I won’t have a legacy,” the woman answered as she turned back to her daughter. “I don’t deserve one.”

            Lily took Danny’s hand, and they returned to the elevator. Once inside, Lily looked hesitantly at Hugo. “Did you get all that you needed?”

            Hugo showed her his sketchpad. “It’ll take a while to get a full picture drawn, but I’ve gotten faster lately. I’ll get it done.”

            “And Annabelle?”

            “I can draw her from memory when she’s just a picture.” Hugo raised his eyebrows. “Lil, what is it?” Then his eyes widened. “Do you think—”  

            Lily shook her head, and hustled them out of the elevator and across to the Portkey station, hastily erected beside the door. “Wait until we’re back home.”

*****

            Once they were home, Uncle Remus turned to her. “Lily, what are you seeing?”

            “I’m not sure,” Lily said. She raised her voice. “Lucy? Grandma?”

             Both women came into the hall. Grandma looked exhausted, and Lucy had clearly been crying.

            “I’m sorry, I need your help,” Lily said quickly. Everyone followed her into the front room.

            Grand-Snuffles and Uncle Neville were sitting together, looking over some maps. They stopped when the group came in.

            Lily hurried past them and reached for a large family album. Flipping through the first few pages, she stopped on a picture of the old Order, and found who she was looking for immediately.

            Her long-dead great-uncles, Fabian and Gideon Prewett stood together, grinning and waving at the camera, carefree expressions surrounded by serious faces.

            “Your brothers, Grandma, were they fraternal twins? Properly fraternal, I mean?”

            Grandma nodded, her jaw tightening.

            “What colour were their eyes?”

            This picture was sepia toned; Lou had explained years ago that it was the fashion back then. Even her Grandmother’s bright hair looked dull.

            “Fabian’s eyes were blue,” Grandma answered at last. “Gideon’s were green.”

            Lily let out a breath. The shape did match then—she wasn’t going mad.

            Hugo came over and his brown eyes went wide. “Lils, is that—those eyes—”

            “Annabelle’s.”

            “Who is Annabelle?” Uncle Neville asked.

            “Apparently Ivy’s penpal from France,” Lily answered. “Her only friend in the world. She’s got magical lineage, but she’s not magic herself. Lucy…”

            “On it.” Lucy hauled out her laptop (the only one she’d managed to make work so far surrounded by magic), and pulled up some documents. Lily peered over her shoulder.

            “What’s the last name?”

            “Martin.”

            “Area of France?”

            “North.”

            Lucy typed for another minute.

            “Her relative’s name would be John,” Grandma said. “That was…that was my second cousin who became an accountant. John Prewett.”

            Lucy nodded. A second later her laptop let out a chime, and Lucy turned the screen around.

            “You’re right, Lily. Annabelle is John Prewett’s grand-daughter.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I did in fact expand on a throwaway line from the first book. This is what I do :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	16. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The runes team do some deconstruction, and Cedric talks with Nicky.

“Right, are those all the books on Celtic Runes?”

 “Of course not,” Roxy said. “That would be four shelves. These are good compendiums, though.”

Nicky took the books from her cousin with a grin. “Fair enough.”

They were gathered around one of the long tables in the Hogwarts library. It would probably be safer going back to Grimmauld Place, but it would be so many trips back and forth to get the books in one place, and then they’d have to run back to Hogwarts anyways…It was easier to sweep Uncle Harry and Aunt Hermione’s books into an Undetectable-Engorgement charmed bag and set up shop here.

It was eerie, being at Hogwarts without anyone else. Nicky was used to being in the library late into the night, but back then Madam Pince at least paced the winding paths between the shelves. Now it was just the seven of them—Nicky, Lara, Uncle Lee, Aunt Luna, Nat, Roxy, and Cedric Diggory.

Somehow between them, they had to have enough knowledge to rebuild the door to Death.

“I might be asking a stupid question,” Cedric said hesitantly.

“No such thing as stupid questions,” Nat and Roxy answered together.

“Well…if the runes were working before, why can’t we just redraw them?”

“It’s because the runes’ power was inherently attached to the Veil,” Lara answered.

“Really?” Uncle Lee said in surprise. “I didn’t see that.”

“Yes, look.” Lara pointed at three of the faded symbols. “Those are binding sigils; they’re used to keep a sacred place safe, or to contain a curse. I suppose it could be both in this case. But now that the Veil is gone, the runes are useless.”

“And rebuilding it exactly the way it was is just going to leave it vulnerable,” Cedric muttered, his brow furrowing. “Well then.”

“We’ve got these pictures as well, Lara,” Uncle Lee said. He handed her a stack of photographs. “These are from the other Death doors from other countries. I didn’t recognize those symbols as binding.”

            “They’re Guarani in origin,” Lara answered. “I’m a descendant, and those were the runes I learned.” She started leafing through the photographs. “Not all of these places have them. Brazil does, and Canada, but nowhere else. They use the Celtic binding symbols.”

            “So maybe Celtic isn’t the way to go.”

            “Maybe not for holding it together, but for structure it might be alright…”

            The next two hours were spent this way—comparing runes in the different pictures, identifying the languages, going over charts, suggesting solutions…Nicky hadn’t sat still and done work like this in a long time. It felt wrong, somehow; she should be out fighting on the front line, like she always was, but she couldn’t be. She knew this, and she had to stay here and sort it out.

            She was still relieved when Uncle Lee called a break.

            “I’m going to start ripping pages out of books,” he said. “And I don’t want to do that in front of the librarian, goddaughter or not.”

            Maman packed them a picnic lunch, and they went into Nat and Roxy’s quarters to eat it. Nicky found herself sitting next to Cedric Diggory.

            “So you’re Fleur’s daughter, right?”

            “That’s me.”

            “You look like her.”

            “Sorry…what?” She had her father’s hair, her uncle Charlie’s eyes, and was half a foot shorter than her mother.

            “You do, though.” Cedric grinned. “You have her expressions.”

            “Oh.” Nicky had never thought of that.

            “It’s odd being back here,” Cedric said in a low voice. “I mean, I know it’s been thirty-one years, but in some ways it feels like yesterday.”

            Nicky figured it was best to just listen. After all, she didn’t know much about Cedric Diggory. Cho talked about him sometimes, and so did Maman and Uncle Harry and Uncle Viktor, but the most she knew about him was how he died. She was older than him, and he’d once been older than her mother.

            Cedric grimaced. “Yeah, you don’t know me at all, do you?”

            “Are you—” Nicky immediately checked her mental shields, but she found them intact.

            “Sorry. I do that sometimes. I’ve got some empath in me from pretty far back in my family, I feel it mostly when emotions are strong.”

            “I didn’t know that.”

            “I should have told you that,” Cedric said. “In another life I would have stayed friends with your Mum and Viktor and Harry, I might have married Cho, maybe not, and I would have been around when you were a kid. If Fleur wanted me around, that is.”   

            “She would have,” Nicky said immediately. “She liked you. She liked that you were willing to play fair, even when that didn’t _exactly_ mean by the rules.”

            Cedric grinned again. “That sounds like your Mum. But yeah, I suppose that’s why it feels weird. Everyone else is back with their family, people who knew them well. No one here really knows me.”

            “Couldn’t you go see your dad? Or Cho—I’m sure she would be glad to see you.”

            “I asked Neville about my mum and dad,” Cedric answered. “They’re…they’ve both in hiding right now, and no one’s sure where. Maybe when the fight is over I’ll get a chance, but I don’t want to put them in danger.

            “And Cho? I know she’s married now, but she still cares about you.”

            “I might see Cho, but I don’t know how much good it will do.” Cedric leaned back and chewed on a sandwich thoughtfully. “See, your family is different from other people who are dead. They’ve changed some, but the others don’t. I see them sometimes, people who died in the Battle of Hogwarts or even some who died before I did. They don’t really…change. Time doesn’t work the same way there, and you don’t grow as a person like you do when you’re alive. Most of the time I still feel seventeen, even though I’ve seen my contemporaries grow up and have children—hell, have grandchildren. I’ve existed all those years, but I’m still me. And I’m still mostly-in-love-but-not-quite-yet with Cho, with the girl she was, even though I know she’s grown up, grown up so wonderfully and so well. I still feel like things will stay good, like I wasn’t bloody murdered. I’m always seventeen, I suppose. I don’t think that will ever change.”

            “That doesn’t sound very good.”

            “It has its perks. I’ve never had a midlife crisis.” Cedric patted her hand. “And I suppose for Cho, that’s the version of me she remembers, so it might be okay. But she’s not my Cho anymore, and I might…I might just make her feel bad.”

            “Maybe, but shouldn’t she decide that?”

            “Well, where is she?”

            “She’s in hiding with the Hogwarts people, Chris is coaching there and they decided to go with their kid.”

            “Maybe…maybe I’ll have the chance. But if I don’t, Nicky, would you please tell her I’m proud of her? And that she’s got nothing to feel sorry for; I know she felt so guilty about the first year after I died. She was grieving. I don’t know if I would’ve been any different.”

            “I promise.”

            Cedric took a deep breath. “Right, I want to know more about you. Lara is your wife, right?”

            “Well, we’re not married, exactly.”

            “Waiting or just not into the idea?”

            Nicky looked at him. “Sort of both, I suppose. Neither of us are fussed about it—Grandma makes Lara a jumper, everyone knows we’re together, it just doesn’t feel necessary. I don’t hate the idea of marriage, and neither does Lara, but there’s not much point organizing a giant party and doing vows and all of that if we’re not really enthusiastic about it. Does that make sense?”

            “Perfectly.”

            “I mean, Vic’s always wanted to get married, and her and Ted getting married made a lot of sense. And Lou’s the exact opposite—they’re never going to get married because they’re aromantic and marriage seems pointless to them. They’ve got Bert, they’re happy. I suppose I’m somewhere in the middle, and that’s…well, that’s always what I’ve been like.”

            “Middle child syndrome?” Cedric teased.

            “Look, if I’m going to have a syndrome, it’s not the worst.”

            Lee beckoned to them. “Come on you two, we’d better get back to it.”

            Nicky groaned, but she got up. “Let’s go, Cedric. We’ve got more old books to go through.”

            “You don’t read a lot of old books for your work?”

            “We do a lot more listening to oral history, actually…”

            But conversation died out when they got back to the library. It was too difficult to talk now, and it was so brutal to look at the complicated diagram of the languages used for which parts, so they couldn’t be used again, but there were other options, but some of the languages didn’t work for the context (maybe every language had a rune for death, but there was so much more than that)…

            And then Nicky, out of an old habit, looked down at some footnotes in an Arabic Runes dictionary, and gasped. The sound seemed to send a shock around the table, because everyone turned to look at her.

            “What?”

            “I can’t believe I didn’t think of this,” Nicky said, rereading the footnote. It’d been there the whole time, hadn’t it? Just like it was for her Uncle so many years ago.

            “Querida, what are you talking about?” Lara snapped. She hated sitting still even more than Nicky, and the strain in her voice was obvious.

            “Most of these runes were drawn centuries ago, right?” Nicky said. “Ours, the other wizarding countries…it was about four hundred years ago that they all crafted the Veils, it was one of the biggest international undertakings.” Uncle Percy had given her the book she now grabbed, flipping through the pages feverishly.

            “Nicky—”

            “There was one wizard whose work survives that length of time, who was still working most of that time.” Nicky found the page. “And that wizard was working in the Middle East, and went back to Britain to help with their Veil.”

            Cedric’s eyes widened. “Really?”

            Nicky turned the page around and showed them. “Nicholas Flamel was there for it all.”

            “But Nicholas Flamel is—” Uncle Lee smacked his head. “Of course.”

            Nicky knew what he meant. Nicholas Flamel had died when Uncle Harry was eleven.

            But death wasn’t much of an obstacle right now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now for those of you wondering about conversations...let's just say all will become clear shortly.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	17. Compiling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The groups come back together to share knowledge, and come up with a frightening picture.

            It was tough fitting everyone into the drawing room, especially with all of the notes, but they made do.

            As luck would have it, the three groups had returned at roughly the same time, and everyone was trying to talk at once. Ginny had to shout them down.

            “CAN WE DO THIS IN SOME KIND OF RATIONAL ORDER?”

            That got people quiet.

            “Right. Thank you.” Ginny summoned a white board from upstairs and the marker pack. “I know there’s a hell of a lot we just found out, but we need to go slowly, okay? I can only write so fast. Lily Luna, do you want to start?”

            Her daughter nodded. “Ivy was friends with Annabelle Martin, who we’ve now learned is actually related to the Weasley family. Auntie Gabrielle is looking to find out more about her, and Freddie will report once they find anything.”

            “Why this girl in particular?” Ginny asked. “Is it just because of our family connection?”

            “Well…not just that. Ivy wasn’t on the list of New Death Eaters, and her mum told us she was terminal, right? So she needs to have some other influence in her life that talked her into doing something so drastic.”

            “Lil’s right,” Hugo said. He held up his drawing of Ivy, now with stronger lines than the sketch from before. “She’s not the kind of person who makes decisions like that.”

            “You can tell that from a picture you drew, Weasley?” Snape asked.

            “It’s Granger-Weasley,” Hugo snapped. “And yes, I can. That’s part of what I do for a living. I can’t exactly explain it, but I just…I just know.”

            “You might have some empath in you,” Cedric Diggory said thoughtfully. “I’ve never heard of it through drawing, precisely, but I always found people made more sense when I wrote things down about them.”

            Hugo’s eyes brightened. “Wicked.”

            “So Annabelle is this girl’s close friend, and all of a sudden she stops writing to her?” Moody growled. “When was that?”

            “The last letter was two months ago.”

            “The timing fits,” Harry said pensively. “But why go dark? If Ivy’s so malleable, she probably needs someone to keep her in shape.”

            “We’ll know more when we find out about Annabelle,” Ginny reminded him. “For now, we need to address what Hermione’s group found.” She stared at her sister-in-law.

            “We found a family murdered by Dementors,” Hermione said in a low voice. “There aren’t any others that we’ve found so far, and we’ve got the Sentinels ready and on alert for any further attacks.”

            “I thought you got rid of Dementors when you closed Azkaban,” Sirius said in surprise.

            “We thought so,” Harry said grimly. “We chased them as far as we could, but I suppose…we might have missed a few.”

            “Oh, I see. Not your fault, mate, those bastards are sneaky.”  

            “And they can be born from poisoned mist.”

            Ginny looked over. Roxy was back in the room, trembling from head to foot, clutching a thick book to her chest.

            “When Mum told me about the house…what the family looked like…I remembered this book.” Roxy laid the book down on the table, and Ginny caught a glimpse of what looked like Gaelic on the front.

            “It’s an old book of monsters,” Roxy said. “And it’s actually got the most complete section about Dementors I could find.” She opened the book to a marked page, revealing a picture of a dark cloud, twisting itself into a shape.

            “You can make Dementors,” Roxy explained. “It’s complicated, and there’s a lot of ingredients, but it can be done. You basically have to let so much poison into the air that it makes a mist, and then shape it into place with complete despair. It usually takes the mind of the person who does it, but if it’s done in a group it’s easier. And once there’s one Dementor, it can create others of its kind as long as the conditions are still right.”

            “So…so someone has been breeding Dementors,” Ginny whispered. She remembered, remembered being threatened with one by the Carrows, forced to sit in a classroom for a day with it hovering on the other side of the room, kept at bay by a weak Patronus.

            “ Something’s not right though,” Remus said, frowning. “The worst part about Dementors is that they don’t kill you, they take your…they take your soul. So how did the family die? Well, I suppose they aren’t precisely dead…”

            “They’re brain dead,” Moody said quietly. “All of them. They would be dead if this was a normal time.” 

            Roxy’s lips tightened. She flipped the page. “I don’t think they were Dementors. Not adult ones, at least.”

            Ginny felt cold.

            “Before Dementors are adults, they can’t take a human soul properly. The stress and strain on the body is too much, and they kill the person. But they…they also can’t eat them, the way adult ones do.”

            “So their souls might not be gone then?” Harry asked.

            “I don’t know,” Roxy said. She worried the corner of the page between her fingers. “It’s complicated, you see. Most observed Dementors have been adults; they don’t stay juvenile for very long. The person who wrote this book deliberately made this happen—he worked at Azkaban over a hundred years ago.” Her face twisted. “He was in charge of testing different creatures to be there to punish the inmates.”

            Sirius bowed his head. “Fucking hell.”

            “But adult Dementors are still more effective, right?” Ginny asked. “Why would you want to use baby ones?” Then she was struck by a horrible thought. “Hang on. Souls…that’s what keeps us alive, right?”

            “Yes,” Dumbledore said. “Essentially when you die, your soul leaves your body. Currently we are souls, but ones that have been through death.”

            “But if you were given a living soul,” Ginny said slowly, “could you use that to…well, to stay?”

            No one said a word; Ginny couldn’t even hear a breath in the room.

            “That’s what they want,” James said at last. “They want to stay here and…and start over.”

            “And how many Dementors are out there?” Lily Luna looked terrified. “They could already have the souls they need.”

            “No, we know they don’t,” Cedric corrected her. “Otherwise they would have closed the Veil already. They must want some people to die.”

            Ginny took a deep breath. “Yes, we should talk about those Runes for a moment. There’s progress on that front?”

            “Yes. We found out that Nicholas Flamel worked on the original runes in the Middle East, centuries ago. We need to speak to him, he might be able to help us with how the runes came together. Is there a way to contact him?”

            “I suppose you’ll have to ask Death,” Harry answered. ~~~~

            Ginny felt wind brush through her curls, and wasn’t at all surprised to see Death standing beside her.

            “I can contact. Nicholas Flamel,” Death said. “I’ll need to track him down. Even in death he hides from me.”

            “I’m a bit surprised by that,” Harry said. “Wasn’t Flamel not afraid…” he trailed off, and glared at Dumbledore. “Of course, I’m an idiot. Why did I ever believe that story?”

            To Ginny’s surprise, Dumbledore actually looked discomfited. “You were only a child. And it was true.”

            “In the end.” Harry shook his head. “Of course he was afraid of death. Who else would make an elixir of immortality?”

            “His perspective was the same!” Dumbledore answered.

            “But not when he wrote this book,” Roxy interjected. “He talks here about the opportunity to study the Veil so wizards can conquer Death, so that the guardians of magic can live together.”

            “He doesn’t sound like a very brave person,” Hugo said.

            Hermione touched her son’s head. “Darling, you can be brave and still fear death. We’re all afraid of something. But misrepresenting your fear isn’t right. Neither is doing that for someone else.” She shot a glare in Dumbledore’s direction.  

"I've gotten some of the notes from my friend in Nigeria," Percy said. "So that's eighty countries together. There's never been this kind of effort.”

“That’s wonderful, can we see that?” Luna asked. “That might be the last piece that we need.”

“But talking to Flamel will be very useful,” Lee added. “We need to see if there’s anything underlying the runes that made them work last time. We need to make sure the conditions this time are as different as possible, but there has to be a keystone from the last one.”

“How do you figure?”

Nicky pointed to their diagrams of runes. “These are all different runes from different languages. They talk about binding, about doors, about ends and beginnings, about travel, about no return. Any of these on their own wouldn’t be enough to seal the door, and all together…there’s still something missing. Something that binds them together and gives them the full power.”

“I wish I could tell you what it is.” Death shook their head. “Unfortunately I have no idea what it could be. The language of mortals is unknown to me.”

“Is there a language of the dead?”

“It isn’t used here. There are runes on the other side, but I have already repaired that side. Once the Veil is restored, the pathway will be fixed again. I will go and locate Flamel. I will return with his answer.” Death disappeared in the same wind.

“So…so what are our next steps?”

“We can keep working on the runes,” Lee said. “we’ve still got to figure out the proper combination of runes that are possible, and we can do that without speaking to Flamel. We’ll go back to Hogwarts for that.”

“And we’ve got to change our strategy for protection,” Angelina said. “If it’s Dementors we need to worry about most, we’ve got to get the word out as quick as possible.” She stood up. “We’d better go for that now.”

“As for—” Lily Luna stopped and pulled out her mirror. “Hi Auntie Gabrielle, have you found anything out?”

“Oui.” Gabrielle’s lovely face was drawn. “I found Annabelle. More specifically, I found her grieving parents.”

“She died?” Ginny said sharply.

“She died a month ago.” Gabrielle held up a scrap of a French newspaper. Annabelle stared out at them, unnervingly still. The only thing moving was her hair in the light breeze.

“How did she die?”

“The death was determined a suicide, only…only no one knows why.”

“Sometimes happy looking people can be depressed,” Molly said quietly.

“It’s not that, Tante Molly. She was going to get married two days from then, and then they found her in the middle of a park, curled up under a tree. People thought she was asleep.”

“Was it murder?”

“No. There was a note beside her and a vial of the Draught of Living Death. But when they examined it, it was mixed with a poison.”

“That’s a slow way to die,” Snape commented. “It would give her plenty of time to reconsider.”

“It’s also a complicated potion to combine,” Lily added. She furrowed her brow. “The Draught of Living Death automatically rejects most poisons because of its composition. There are only four poisons I can think of that would work, and they don’t come cheap.”

Gabrielle’s eyes widened. “Well that…that makes things more complicated. Annabelle was marrying a rich girl. Her mother said she got so many fine necklaces she sparkled like a dragon.”

“So her fiancée sent her poison? Not the ideal relationship.”

“Well, unless…” Ginny stopped speaking. There was something in her mind now, something creeping into her thoughts. She closed her eyes.

_Love stories are powerful, but every one of them is different._

“Ivy isn’t the one who came up with the idea,” Ginny said slowly. “And we think Annabelle had something to do with it. And she’s dead now, or at least she was dead a month ago. Could she have done anything on the other side?”

She saw Dumbledore’s eyes widen, and winced. She really didn’t want to be right, because that meant a larger conspiracy, something deeper than they understood.

“We need to find out who her fiancée is.”

“I’ve got a name,” Gabrielle. “A first name at least. Her parents aren’t the most attentive. Her name is Marina.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you're forewarned...most of the remaining chapters end on cliffhangers.   
> Hey, at least I warned you!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	18. Suspicious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione's frustrated, Harry's suspicious, and Voldemort is feeling paternal.

            “Alright everyone, let’s go again.”

            _“Expecto Patronum!”_

The Council was gathered at Hogwarts, just outside the library. It was still safer than Grimmauld Place, and Harry really didn’t want to bring everyone there and explain how many people had come back through.

            Healer Quest finally managed it, a pot-bellied little cat running from his wand.

            “Well done,” Harry praised him. He looked over and his face fell. “Hermione, any luck?”

            Hermione’s face was screwed up in concentration, but there was only vapour coming from her wand. “I don’t understand,” she gasped. “I’ve got so many happy memories, and everyone else is just as stressed as I am. Why can’t I do this?”

            “I think you’re trying too hard,” Harry said. “Look, close your eyes and think about the day Rosie said Mama the first time.”

            Hermione closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

            “Now let that sit with you, okay? Remember it as clearly as you can.”

            Hermione took another deep breath. “I’ve got it.”

            “Now try it.”

            “ _Expecto Patronum!”_

            A silver otter burst out of Hermione’s wand and jumped neatly over her head.

            “There you are,” Harry said. “You’ve just got to take a moment, ‘Mione. I know you’re not used to that with magic, but…”

            Hermione shoved him. “Thank you, Professor.”

            “So now that we can protect ourselves, what do we do next?” Healer Quest asked.

            “Right now we need the word out as soon as possible,” Harry answered. “Audrey’s already spoken to the Muggle Prime Minister; Lucy and Dudley are going to help with that.”

            “So what can we do?”

            “I want you all to go back to your places and start working on this from the perspective that we’re dealing with baby Dementors. Healer Quest, is there anything we can do from a health lens?”

            “There are existing treatments for Dementor exposure, and they could be adjusted for the baby ones.” Healer Quest looked thoughtful. “Is that poor family going to recover?”

            Harry shook his head. “They should be dead already.”

            “Would you—would it be possible to examine them? It won’t cause them any further pain, and it will tell us more about the differences between the juveniles and the adults.”

            Harry glanced at Hermione.

            “Yes, that should be fine,” Hermione said. “Jessica’s sister Sarah is watching over the bodies right now, and I’m sure she’ll let you look into it.”

            “We need to get word to the students,” Harry said. “I don’t start teaching Patronuses until third year, so that’s a lot of kids who can’t protect themselves.”

            “I’ll go before I examine the bodies, then,” Healer Quest said. “I’ll be in that area, after all.”

            Harry winced. “Robert, we shouldn’t—”

            “Oh, I apologize, Mrs. Granger-Weasley.” Healer Quest shook his head. “I didn’t mean to put you in jeopardy.”

            “I will never say anything,” Hermione promised.

            The Hogwarts students were hiding in plain sight, in a matter of speaking. Twenty years ago they’d built an island, just off the west of England. The island was Unplottable, and Muggles could technically sail right through it. The island had one large building, set up with enough beds, food, and water (and bathrooms) for the entire population of Hogwarts twice over. It was just as safe as Hogwarts, and even (at Oliver Wood’s insistence) had a mini Quidditch pitch.

            “We can trust her, Robert,” Arthur said quietly. “Of course we can.”

            “Oh, certainly. Mrs. Granger-Weasley’s trustworthiness was never in question. It’s just that she will become a target, if people think that she knows.”

            “I would think she’s at risk already,” Harry said dryly.

            “Fair enough. Very well. I’ll pass on the message, and I’ll let you know when I’ve returned.” Healer Quest bowed and walked down the hall.

            “How’s he going to get there?” Hermione asked.

            “We’ve arranged a Portkey just outside the castle,” Edith Rawling said. Her Patronus—a large raven—hovered just above her shoulder. “Matter of fact, I should get going too. I promised I’d visit Ivy.”

            Harry raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t realize that you were so close to Ivy.”

            “I take my responsibility to my Unspeakables seriously. Ivy’s a damn silly girl, but she’s always been bright. I want to say goodbye.”

            Edith stalked off. Harry watched her go.

            “What are you thinking?” Hermione asked when Edith was out of sight.

            “I don’t know.” Harry frowned. “There’s a lot about Unspeakables I don’t know. But from the little Fi’s been able to share, I thought Edith was cold. That it’s how they work together, because they’re not fully ‘alive’ when they’re down there.”

            “Maybe she just thinks that’s easier,” Hermione answered.

            “So why hasn’t she been to see Ivy yet? All the Unspeakables are able to go there for Ivy and to study those who are still alive. Why neglect Ivy if she cares?”

            “You don’t think—you don’t think we’ve got a traitor, do you?” Audrey appeared over his shoulder suddenly. Harry looked around at the rest of the Council—his father in law, his goddaughter, one of his oldest friends and Headmaster, two of his brothers in law, his successor in the Auror Office, and Draco Malfoy, who was as pale as his peacock Patronus.

            “I don’t know,” Harry said at last. “But something isn’t right.”

            Harry was. Right, that is.

            Far away, just a few miles north of London, there was a group gathered, all wearing black robes with huge hoods. There were no masks among them, for once. They all knew each other, except for the couple currently kneeling in front of a skeletal man with glowing red eyes.

            “Stand up, both of you,” a high-pitched voice hissed. Voldemort nodded when the women stood up, hand in hand. He’d never felt the obsessive love the two felt for each other—no love of any kind, honestly—but he could appreciate how that love drove them.

            Annabelle Martin kept her eyes lowered, blonde hair falling in her face, but her wife looked back at him with calm dark eyes. Her free hand was clenched over her heart, and her body trembled with passion.

            “I owe you both a great debt of gratitude,” Voldemort said. “This was a wonderful plan—the two of you have been more loyal than many twice your age, and we never even met.”

            A ripple of amusement passed between the wives. “It’s an honour to meet you now, my Lord.”

            Voldemort waved his hand. “I am interested in your story, of course—there must be quite a tale. But now we need to move. We have a location for the students of Hogwarts.”

            That got the whole crowd interested.

            “Your partner’s been quite useful,” Voldemort said. “She connected us with the truth.” He paused. This was generally an unwise question to ask, given his followers, but he did owe them… “Name your reward, ladies, and it shall be yours.”

            Annabelle shot a quick look at her wife, and found her voice. “If it would please you, my Lord, I would like to raise children with my wife. They could be ours, or any children orphaned during this necessary cleansing. I am sure we could raise them properly to follow the proper Code.”

            Such a simple wish; only to be more useful to the cause. Voldemort couldn’t be more proud of them if they were his own daughters.

            “Your wish is granted,” he promised. “And because you didn’t ask for yourself, I will make sure you have every comfort for yourself and your children.”

             Annabelle’s face lit up, and Voldemort could see a certain attractiveness in her face. Certainly not as beautiful as Bellatrix, who in death had recovered her looks. She sat beside him, head on his shoulder. Voldemort had a sneaking suspicion that if it wasn’t for the obvious bond between the wives, she’d be raving jealous.

            “You are generous, my Lord,” Annabelle’s wife said. “What can we do to help with the assault on the students?”

            Voldemort let his lips curl into a smile. _Oh, Harry Potter, you’ve done your best. Pity you’ve not done enough to protect the snivelling brats._

_Including your unborn grandchild._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now this is going to be a warning for the next chapter: it will contain character death. It's not major character death, but it will be someone on the good side. I will update the tags to reflect this.  
> On a happier note, you will find out what Ernie MacMillan's Patronus is :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	19. Betrayed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scorpius is meant to be at the safe place with his students. But an attack shows it may not be that safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is character death in this chapter. The tags will be updated to reflect this.

Scorpius felt odd being around his students when they weren’t at Hogwarts.

            The island hall was nice enough, but everyone was tense and frightened, and a pall hung over everyone. His grandfather wasn’t speaking much, Abby spent a lot of time crying, and there was no way of knowing what was going on at the mainland.

            Scorpius thought once, twice, a hundred times about contacting Al through the mirror, but there were hundreds of people here. It wouldn’t be fair to just talk to Al and say “oh, sorry, this is just a family connection thing, and you still can’t talk to your parents”.

            Instead, he did his best to keep the kids interested in…well, everything but worrying about why they were there. Herbology classes had been suspended, but Scorpius started an informal class every day for anyone who wanted to come. By the second day on the island, there was a decent crowd listening to him. For an hour, they could talk about the care of living things and not be afraid.

            James helped out with a second class for the older kids. His face was pale and set, but he was still gentle with everyone, especially Abby.

            “You _know_ I’m not showing yet, Jamie,” Abby complained the first night when Jamie insisted on tucking her into bed.

            “I know, love,” James whispered. He bent his head and kissed her blanket-covered stomach. “But I want to take care of you and our baby. I’ll need all the practice I can get.”

            And Abby didn’t fuss anymore, and she leaned her head against James’ shoulder, and Scorpius missed Al so much his bones ached.

            He was still missing him that next day, sitting outside the hall on a large rock at the beach. It was sunny, but a cold wind was tearing through his hair. His engagement ring shone in the sunlight, and Scorpius yanked his sleeves up over his hands.

“Missing your lad?”

            It was Madam Hannah, carrying her little girl Alice. Alice was nearly two, and she reached out eagerly for Scorpius. Scorpius took her gently, setting her on his knee facing her mother.

            _At least there’s someone happy here._

“I am,” he said. “Very much. I know he’s brave, and I know he can take care of himself, but everyone there’s taking care of each other. I’m worried that he’ll put himself at risk doing that.”

            “I feel the same way.” Madam Hannah patted her daughter’s cloud of brown curls. “Neville’s always been so focused on the good of others. It was terrible during the second War—he’d come into the Room of Requirement just broken and bloody so many times. I insisted that I patch him up.”

            Scorpius nodded, throat still tight.

            “All we can do right now is wait and be brave. I know it’s hard, but this isn’t going to last forever. One way or another, things are going to change soon. And even if—if it changes in the worst possible way—well, we have to be ready to live something new.”

            “Dream our own dreams,” Scorpius replied, remembering what Al told him about a long-ago conversation with his mother.

            Hannah smiled. “Yes. That’s all we can do.” She looked over Scorpius’ shoulder, and her face changed. “Hello, Mr. Malfoy.”

            Scorpius turned his head. “Grandfather?”

            Grandfather was leaning rather heavily on his cane as he walked towards them. He was smiling just enough to be unthreatening, but not enough that he presumed he was welcome.

            “Hello Scorpius. Madam Abbott.” Grandfather looked at Alice. “Your girl’s growing up very well.”

            That coaxed a small smile out of Madam Hannah. “Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. She and Bailey are starting to really be kids again.”

            Bailey Longbottom was currently inside, having a heated debate with the other Gryffindor boys in his year about the merits of having bedtime snacks.

            “That’s good. It’s cruel when children suffer.” Grandfather leaned back on his cane, looking out to the horizon. Then he frowned. “I didn’t think there would be rain today.”

            Scorpius looked out, and his brow furrowed. There were a few dark clouds starting to gather. “There isn’t supposed to be. Professor Firenze is good at that—”

            Then the wind came up again, this time coming from the direction of the clouds, but the wind was _icy_ now. Icy, but with a dampness to it that Scorpius recognized from a classroom long ago, with Harry saying calmly “it’s going to be alright, everyone. I know this is difficult, but if you concentrate you can make this stop—”

Scorpius leapt up, yanking Alice into his arms protectively. “It’s Dementors,” he said.

            Madam Hannah turned pale. “Get inside, _now!”_

            One thing could be said for Neville, Ernie, and Harry’s persistent refrain of ‘Constant Vigilance’—everyone knew how to do drills. Within five minutes, there were no more visible beds, stoves, decorations, trunks…nothing to show that there were nearly three hundred people on the island. Everyone had moved down to the basement with all of their things, and the rooms were sealed. After a lot of ferocious arguing, twelve people remained upstairs.

            Scorpius was one of them. Grandfather wasn’t. He’d tried to argue, but Scorpius just pushed him down after James and Abby. “You’ve got to stay safe, or Grandmother will never forgive me!” 

            He couldn’t stop the five kids that were eighteen (all summer babies, nearly nineteen). They were called the ‘Quintuplets’ despite none of them being related; they simply did everything together. They were all in Harry’s seventh year class, ready to take their NEWTs and have done with it.

            “We can all cast strong Patronuses,” Izzy told Scorpius. “We want to make Professor Potter proud.”

            “Then you need to stay in the back,” Scorpius said at last.

            The whole sky was dark now, and it was chilly, whipping through everyone’s hair. If Scorpius squinted, he could make out some individual shapes among the approaching clouds, and that worried him more than anything, because they were definitely the baby Dementors, not             fully-grown.

            Then Cho cried out. “Look over there!”

            Scorpius saw the flashes of silver light before he saw the cloaked figures; but these ones weren’t Dementors. They had masks, and they had wands, Patronuses surrounding them. There were easily twenty of them, flying in formation, straight for the building. They would beat the Dementors there.

            Ernie swore furiously. “Scorpius, get underground.”

            “Not a chance,” Scorpius snapped back. “Quints, with me! We need to stop them.”

            Scorpius didn’t wait for the others to respond. Dashing right towards Death Eaters wasn’t exactly keeping his promise to Al, but he’d made a promise to James too.

            Two curses flew past his ears from behind, and they hit two Death Eaters square in the chest. They fell off their brooms and crashed into the ocean, but that still left eighteen, and the air was getting colder by the second.

            Concentrating hard, Scorpius raised a wall of thorns high into the sky; they wouldn’t hold against much, but it would buy them precious time.

            “Get your Patronuses cast,” he snapped at the Quints. “Quickly, and then a Shield Charm.” He did the same, and his silver ferret joined the Quints’ five dogs just before the brooms crashed through the thorns to cries of pain. A few Death Eaters lost their masks, and Scorpius swallowed.

            Antonin Dolohov and McNair were among them, and both men looked at him with a hatred Scorpius had never seen in his life.

            “Traitor’s blood,” Dolohov sneered. He raised his wand, but Scorpius beat him to it.

            “Petrificus Totalus!”

            Aunt Hermione taught him that one, and Dolohov dropped. McNair snarled at him, advancing, and Scorpius rushed to met him.

            Duelling in the field wasn’t at _all_ like in class, other than the speed of spells. Harry had always been relentless, and Scorpius finally appreciated it. McNair was firing curses Scorpius barely recognized, but the tone was more than enough to guess the intent. Darting between the rocks, Scorpius sent every jinx and counter-curse he knew right back. He had no idea what the Quints were doing, what kind of shape they were in, and all he could do was concentrate, look for the weakness, look for the unguarded place, the pattern…

            And then he spotted it.

            McNair was shorter than him, and his wand was higher to compensate.

            So Scorpius shot a furious _Impedimenta!_ Just under McNair’s left arm, and the stumble was enough.

            _“Stupefy!”_

McNair dropped to the sand, and didn’t move. Scorpius tied him up with a thought, and turned his attention to the rest of the field.

            Chris and Terry had come to join them, and they were working with the Quints to trap the still-conscious Death Eaters between the seven of them. The cloud of Dementors was nearly overhead, but a shimmery group of Patronuses were darting and diving at them, snapping their jaws. To Scorpius’ shock, one blow from a swan’s wing tore a Dementor to shreds.

            _Patronuses can kill them when they’re this young._

            Scorpius looked at his ferret. “Can you go help there?” he asked.

            The ferret darted up to the sky, and Scorpius went to help with the Death Eaters.

            Most of the masks were off now, and Scorpius recognized every single one. Yaxley was the only one who wasn’t fighting as hard; he was just watching Scorpius with a strange look on his face. The rest were struggling violently against a combination of Shield Charms and the effects of half-a-dozen jinxes. One of them was currently turning into a duck.

            Scorpius raised his wand to start Stunning the group, but Yaxley’s eyes widened, and Scorpius spun in time to catch a painful curse directly to his ribs. It felt like fire was roaring in his chest, replacing his bones with an inferno.

            Two dripping wet figures stood in front of him.  One had their wand out, and when she removed her wand, Scorpius recognized Alecto Carrow’s cruel smile. The other was her brother then. Scorpius shuddered. He’d heard more than enough stories about them to be afraid.

            Overhead a high pitch shrieking rang out. Scorpius took a quick look up, and saw the Patronuses engaged in furious combat. It distracted the others long enough for just one Shield Charm to slip, but it was enough for the Death Eaters to break free.

            No one was coming to save him.

            His wand was yanked out of his hand before he could try and fight back, and he fell to his knees as another blast of pain hit him. He had to get up and move, fight back somehow. He had to come home to Al…

            But a green light flashed, and Scorpius couldn’t move—he’d lost track of the others, what if it hit them instead—

            Then someone leapt between him and the green light. 

            Scorpius cried out in horror as his grandfather fell in front of him.

            The Carrows looked surprised for a moment. Lucius Malfoy lay on the rocky beach, long hair strewn out, his cane lying beside him.

            Scorpius saw red and grabbed hold of his grandfather’s wand. He sliced it through the air with no clear spell in mind, only a desperate need to make this all _stop._

Both the Carrows fell down without a sound, and Scorpius bent over his grandfather.

            “Grandfather?” he gasped.

            Grandfather looked up at him, and for a moment Scorpius hoped that it was alright, that maybe the curse had missed…but when his grandfather reached up and touched his face, his hand was bloody.

            He was bleeding from a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt.

            “No,” Scorpius gasped. “No, _no_ , why did you do that?”

            Grandfather’s face was peaceful, and there was a love in his eyes Scorpius rarely saw so clearly.

            “You have a wonderful future ahead of you, dear Scorpius,” he whispered. “I couldn’t let my past destroy that.”

            Scorpius leaned his cheek against his grandfather’s hand, tears streaming down his face. He knew very well that his grandfather should be dead, unable to even say that much, but it was only a matter of time. The moment the Veil was closed, his grandfather would be gone.

            For now, though, he was alive, and there were still Dementors. Carefully, Scorpius helped his grandfather to his feet, handling him delicately. The Death Eaters were under control once again, and there were fewer of them in the sky. Scorpius’ ferret had vanished.

            Ernie came over to them, his eyes wide. “Scorpius, Lucius…”

            “What do you need?” Lucius interrupted.

            “How did you get out?”

            “I was never in there. I stayed on the beach.” Lucius looked at Scorpius. “I couldn’t leave you here to fight alone. Not against these people.”

            A few Death Eaters were still conscious in their bonds, and they all had such intense looks of hatred on their faces Scorpius could practically feel them. His ribs were still burning, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now.

            Cho knocked the rest of the Death Eaters down with a wide sweep of her wand. “We need Hannah out here now.”

            “First, we need to get rid of these Dementors.” Ernie closed his eyes, and then shouted as he pointed up, “ ** _Expecto Patronum!!!”_**

The biggest honey badger Scorpius had ever seen leapt towards the sky. High-pitched shrieking started again, and the cloud of Dementors scattered, fleeing from the sharp-toothed Patronus. But the badger caught all but a few in huge snapping jaws.

            Scorpius would have found that wicked earlier that day. All he could think now was a simple statement.

            _We weren’t safe here after all._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the first time I've killed a character (other than times where it was a vehicle to showing the afterlife). I hope it makes sense, I wanted to have it from Scorpius' point of view because he is the most affected (other than his father).   
> This kicks this fic into high gear, just FYI. The third act is cooooooooming.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	20. Grieving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group at home process the news of the attack, and a plan is formed to smoke out the traitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some very nasty language in this chapter concerning minorities (both in the wizarding world and in our own). They are spoken by the traitor, and I had a difficult time writing them, I promise you.

            Neville stared at his wife in the mirror, unable to process what he’d just heard.

            _Our students, our kids…_

The children were safe—they’d gotten underground in time. But the teachers were wounded, and there were many Death Eaters to deal with. Neville could only be grateful that Bellatrix Lestrange wasn’t there, because she would have been unstoppable in her rage to hurt the children.

            But there was one death on their side, a death Neville wouldn’t have felt sorry about at all twenty years before. Even now, his heart wasn’t aching for Lucius Malfoy; it was aching for Scorpius, his protégé and heir to the greenhouses. He didn’t deserve to see his grandfather die like that.

            To his surprise, Neville also felt terrible for Draco Malfoy.

            “How did they find you?” Neville asked at last. “Did they follow Healer Quest there?”

            Hannah’s brow furrowed. “Healer Quest? He wasn’t here.”

            Neville’s skin crawled. “Merlin, he might be dead. What about Edith Rawlings?”

            “She wasn’t here either.” Hannah’s eyes widened. “One of them—it has to be one of them—”

            Neville closed his eyes. It always came back to that, didn’t it? No matter how careful, how well-thought out your plans were, no matter how many fail safes you built into plans…there was always that possibility that one person couldn’t be trusted.

            “Don’t worry, love,” he told Hannah. He straightened his shoulders, letting the moment of weakness pass. “We’ll sort it out. I’ll tell you when there’s news, but you should just keep the kids safe until then. Give Bailey and Alice a kiss from me.”

            Hannah nodded. “I will, sweetheart. We miss you.”

            “We’re going to bring you home,” Neville promised. He put his hand on the mirror. “This will end, Hannah. And then let’s close school early and go on vacation with the children, alright?”

            Hannah blew him a kiss. “That’s a wonderful idea. I should go, I need to go check on Scorpius.”

            Neville nodded. “Where are the Death Eaters?”

“Oh, don’t worry about them. Cho and Ernie have them…tied up, to say the least.”

            “And the Patronuses ate all of the Dementors?”

            “There were a few who escaped, but there weren’t enough to bother chasing them.”

            “Good. I’ll talk to you again very soon, alright? I love you.”

            “I love you too.”

            Hannah’s face faded away and Neville let himself slump forward for a moment, clutching the bathroom sink. _I should have been there. I’m the Headmaster, I should have been with my students._

But even in the horror of that moment, Neville knew that he’d made the right decision. If he was there, he wouldn’t have been useful. He would have fretted and worried everyone into a frenzy, and maybe he wouldn’t have done any better in a fight.

            No, Neville had made the right choice with the information he had. They’d worked so hard to make a safe place. And a traitor had destroyed it.

            And Neville was here to make sure they paid for that.

            He walked out of the bathroom, his hands steady and head held high. He was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and he was going to show the world what it meant to mess with his school.

            But Neville was brought up short when he got out of the room. The room was quiet except for Draco Malfoy, who sat on the sofa, his face buried in his hands. Harry sat next to him, but the two weren’t speaking.

            Neville wasn’t quite sure what to do—he and Draco certainly weren’t friends—but he was hurting, and Neville knew a bit about having a living-dead parent. So instead of overthinking it (as he was sure Harry was doing), Neville knelt in front of Draco and put a hand on his shoulder.

            “Draco, I’m so sorry.”

            Draco looked up at him, eyes red and lips trembling. “He’s not dead yet, but he didn’t—he’s going to die. And he died for my son. He’s done something brilliant…good…and he’s losing his life for that.”

            “I know. And it’s because I didn’t protect them—”

            “No, you did all you could. I know you did. Why else would I entrust my son to your care?” Draco looked at him helplessly. “Something happened, didn’t it? There’s someone who betrayed them.”

            “Yes.” Neville tightened his grip on his shoulder and looked up, searching for the one person that might help Draco with his parents absent. But Astoria wasn’t there.

            Snape, however, was.

            “Come and sit with your godson,” Neville told him sharply. “He needs your help.” He stood. “Draco, take some time, alright? We’re going to find out how this happened, and whoever did this is going to pay.”

            Draco looked up at him as Severus came around to sit. “Thank you, Neville. Truly.” He turned his head into Snape’s shoulder, and Neville motioned to Harry and the others.

            They all went back into the Potter’s main sitting room, and Neville cast Muffliato before he started to speak.

            “There’s a traitor.”

            “But who is it?” Hermione asked. “Only the Council knows, right?”

            “Yes. Even the staff and students at Hogwarts didn’t know—all our drills were in very vague constructions of the possible space.”

            “So it had to be someone on the Council. Good thing we can vouch for everyone in this room,” Harry said. His eyes were a furious green, his hands trembling. “How is everyone there?”

            “I just spoke to Hannah, the kids are shaken, but they’re okay. Abby’s still alright.”

            “Thank God,” Ginny whispered.

            “So there’s two people we can’t vouch for on that Council,” Hermione said. “Rawlings and Quest.”

            “You’re sure you can trust the rest of them?” Moody growled. “No offense, but maybe it was an accident—”

            “No, we’re fine,” Rose cut in. “Don’t worry, sir. We put in a failsafe, something Mum used in the D.A.”

            “So we have to look for the person who has “SNEAK” on their face?” Ron asked.

            “No, it’s more complex than that.” Hermione actually looked embarrassed. “That was crude, and—and rather unfair.”

            “Lavender’s products finally cleared it all up though, didn’t they?”

            “Yes. But this time it’s not that obvious. Actually, I think this might actually work out nicely. You see, with this one—well, the only thing that’ll be odd is how they speak.”

            “Then we need to get everyone in a room,” Harry said grimly. “And we need them to talk.”

            *******

            Neville cleared his throat when all the Council was assembled. It was one of the Ministry’s ‘throw-away’ houses. “Thank you for coming. We have some grave news.”

            “What’s happened?” Edith Rawlings asked. Her eyes were wild now, but her voice was calm. Neville shot a glance at Hermione, but she just looked at her hands.

            “The students of Hogwarts were attacked in their hiding place,” Neville replied. “Death Eaters and Dementors were pushed back, but there are injuries and there was one death—well, someone was cursed with Avada Kedavra, and therefore will die.”

            “That’s awful,” Edith said. “How were they found?”

            Hermione still didn’t say a word. Nor, Neville noticed, had someone else.

            “There m-must have b-been a traitor among the s-staff,” Healer Quest stuttered. He frowned. “Apologies. How will we d-determine who it was?”

            Neville swallowed his anger. “I can vouch for every single one of my staff members.”

            “B-better wizards than you have b-been tricked by traitors,” Healer Quest said. He bit down on his lip hard, and Neville saw Hermione nod.

            “Well, you were there earlier today,” Neville said. “I’d welcome an outsider’s opinion.”

            Quest shrugged. “When I was there they all s-seemed intent on p-protecting the s-students. P-perhaps MacMillan though , he’s always b-been amb-bitious.” He looked around. “Or do you think it was Draco Malfoy? I notice he’s not here.”

                        “His father was the one who was killed,” Neville answered. “Lucius Malfoy died protecting his grandson. Draco’s not here because we need the traitor alive.”

            “And…you think the traitor is here?”

            “You’re here,” Hermione snapped, and she waved her wand.

            Healer Quest flew forward, hitting the wall with a dull crunch that signified a broken nose. With another wave of Hermione’s wand, he was spun around, still pressed to the wall, and ropes came out, twining around his limbs. Neville wanted to use Devil’s Snare, but Hermione talked him out of it. “No sense hurting the plant.”

            “What is the meaning of this?!” Healer Quest squealed. “You have no right—”

            “You betrayed us,” Neville said calmly. “And we have some questions for you.”

            “Don’t be ridiculous—I would never—”

            Neville reached into his pocket and drew out the Veritaserum Lily Potter had brewed the night before (“It’s always useful to have on hand”). Healer Quest’s eyes landed on it, and his struggles renewed.

            “You didn’t go to the island,” Neville said slowly. “Hannah never saw you, neither did anyone else. You’ve damned yourself without the stuttering.”

            “What?”

            “Hermione put a nice little jinx on the parchment where we signed our names,” Audrey said. Her eyes were furious; she and Draco were friends. “You’ve never stuttered in your life, Healer Quest, and you just did on some specific letters.”

            “You’re insane!” Healer Quest gasped.

            “No, they’re not,” Edith snarled. Now her whole body was shaking with a wildness that quite frankly scared Neville. “Because you’re Ivy’s Healer. You’ve always been.”

            That threw Neville. “Why didn’t that come up in the records?”

            “Because he’s the assistant director of St. Mungo’s. He could change any record if he wanted to.”

            Neville looked at Healer Quest, and was startled to see the man’s demeanour had changed completely. Gone was the benevolent smile, the slightly confused look. Now Quest’s face was drawn, sharp and calculating, and he looked at Hermione with undisguised hatred so powerful that Neville wanted to take a step back.

            “Harry?” he called. “You were right. It was him.”

            Harry opened the door and stepped in. “I thought it might be.” His voice was grim. “So what now, Quest? Going to keep denying it?”

            “Oh no, Potter. Why should I? The game is up, and you can’t stop it, whatever you do to me.”

            “We’ll see how that works out,” Neville said. “In the meantime, do we have to use this potion, or are you going to start talking?”

            “Might as well.” Healer Quest shifted in his bonds. “What would you like to know?”

            Neville wanted to punch the man’s face until every bone was broken. He’d threatened his students, endangered his wife and children, and thrown the entire wizarding world into chaos.

            “How much have you had to do with this?” was all he said.

            “It wasn’t my idea, but I organized the shredding of the Veil. I’ve been coordinating the rest of my organization the last few days.”

            “So who’s idea was it?”

            “Marina Knight.”

            Neville sucked in a breath as memories came flooding back. “Fucking hell.”

            He should have known from the moment Gabrielle said Annabelle’s girlfriend’s name was Marina.

            Thirty years of teaching, and Neville hadn’t forgotten a face. Other memories got fuzzy now and then, but he could recite every student present at Hogwarts in a given year, all levels and all houses. There’d been over a dozen Marinas, but only one Marina Knight.

            One was fucking enough.

            Marina came to Hogwarts in 2006, and got sorted into Hufflepuff so fast the Sorting Hat barely touched her head. The first two years of school she’d been quiet, mostly unremarkable. Her grades were fine, she participated in Gobstones and the Charms club, and she had a couple of friends. There was nothing to worry about.

            Then in 2005 they got a new Muggle Studies teacher, Nathan Silverman. Nathan was a war orphan, his parents slaughtered by Death Eaters for the crime of blood treason—Eric Silverman knew it was illegal to marry a Muggleborn, but he married Etta Jones, the mother of his child, anyways. Nathan was spared, but he was seven years old and the memory of those murders left him with post-traumatic stress disorder, especially triggered by green light and cloaked figures. Professor McGonagall was keen to reassure him that they would be careful, and discussions of the war should be at a minimum. The Heads of Houses were meant to speak to their Houses and explain that as well. It shouldn’t have been a problem—not like they routinely did re-enactments of Death Eater murders in the corridors.

            But Marina made it a problem. It started small with mentions of Death Eaters, but it quickly escalated. Nathan held out as long as he could, but eventually he broke down when Marina crashed into his office wearing dark robes and firing green sparks at him, laughing loudly as he cowered. Nathan recovered eventually, and he kept teaching, but Marina was expelled after she refused to show remorse. Ernie kept up with her for a few years, keeping tabs, and Marina seemed to grow up, working in her father’s store in the South.

            Clearly that wasn’t true.

            “So she’s involved with the NDE?” Harry said. His eyes were sharp. “Her name didn’t come up in the investigation.”

            “The investigation your dog of a godchild led.”

            Harry took a step forward, and Neville shot him a look.

            “You caught a lot of us, I’ll admit. That fuckwit Davy should never have written anything down. But he had the good sense to keep my name out of it, and the new recruits. We’ve rebuilt from that.”

            “Impressive,” Audrey snarled. “So I suppose Ivy was one of you.”

            Healer Quest laughed, his whole body shaking with the force. “Oh, you’re terribly behind on things, aren’t you? No, Ivy’s got no capacity for evil. No capacity for good, either. Just boring, very easy to mold.”

            “So you took advantage of a dying girl to break down the portal between life and death,” Neville snapped.

            “Not at all.” Healer Quest’s face twisted just a little, enough to see a bit of his former façade. “I just told Ivy she was dying.”

            “So you lied to her,” Edith snarled. “You lied, and you forced her—”

            “Oh, I didn’t force her into anything.” Quest’s face changed again, back to the innocent middle-aged man. “I simply told her that she was dying, supplied her with some medicine to keep her “alive”—”

            “Poison?” Audrey asked.

            “Of course. She went looking for a second opinion, it had to be convincing. But I never gave her that idea. That was someone else.”

            “Someone like her penpal?” Arthur Weasley asked. He’d been quiet the whole time, standing in the corner with Rose, his stance protective. Rose’s face was white with shock, but Arthur sounded perfectly calm. “Her only friend in the world.”

            “And Marina’s wife,” Quest replied. “I believe so, at least. I’m not sure if they got officially married before Annabelle killed herself.”

            “She’s dead?” Neville shook his head. “No, of course, she came through when the barriers fell.”

            “Of course she did. After all, she only died to fulfill an Unbreakable Vow.”

            Neville paused. “What do you mean?”

            “Ivy was very talkative in her letters to Annabelle. She told her everything about her Unspeakable training—I know, Edith, she’s not supposed to, but the poor pathetic child thought no one cared. Only Annabelle, who was so kind to her, who always wrote back. Ivy never dreamed that Annabelle just wanted to learn more about how death worked.”

            “Why break death?” Harry asked. “Isn’t the idea that you lot want everyone who isn’t like you dead?”

            “A fool like you defeated the Dark Lord,” Quest said, shaking his head. “Potter, don’t be stupid. The Dark Lord is our leader; as long as he is dead, we lack his wisdom and insight. We all took a vow when we joined the Death Eaters, new or otherwise—we all work towards immortality. Whether people have already died is immaterial. No, the plan has always been to bring the Death Eaters back to Earth. So Annabelle took interest in Ivy because she always talked about death, and it didn’t take much to persuade her to share all the secrets. It was wonderful, really—we didn’t have to reach out to Fiona Tremblay.”

            Arthur Weasley swore, and Rose raised her wand.

            “He’s not going to hurt Fiona,” Neville said quickly. He had more questions for Healer Quest. “He’s not going to do anything else.”

            “Probably not. I imagine you’ll kill me, or lock me up. It doesn’t matter. Annabelle completed her Vow.”

            “And what was that Vow?”

            “She vowed to stay with Marina forever, and then she killed herself. Of course, in order to keep the Vow, it had to turn itself inside out.”

            _So instead of killing the one who broke it, they were brought back to life._

            “That took care of one end of the portal,” Quest continued. “Annabelle rounded up the Death Eaters in the confusion, and dear Ivy took care of the rest.”

            Neville shook his head. “Brilliant. Well, you’re not going to win.”

            “Of course not, Headmaster,” Healer Quest mocked him. “But then again, how many people will you fail to protect in the mean time? Shame the Hogwarts attack didn’t go through, I would have _loved_ to see your wife lying dead with your half-breed brats.”

            This time it was Harry who stopped Neville from going for Quest’s throat with an interruption. “You’re not a careless man, Quest. You’ve always been so methodical, plodding even. Why risk everything for a set of ideas that killed so many of their followers before?”

            “Because it’s right,” Healer Quest snarled. “The wizarding race is dying out, mixing with Muggles like they’re worthy of our power. Look at these children with mutations in body and mind—all these faggots and mental cases. Muggles are draining us dry, and it will never stop until everyone knows how terrible they are. Every last one of you fucking _bleeding hearts_ that stopped that from happening thirty years ago needs to be punished, and then eliminated.”

            Something clicked in Neville’s head. “It’s not just that,” he said slowly. “I’m sure your hatred runs deep, no offense—but it’s more than the ideology, isn’t it? You hate being outdone by anyone different than you, like Hannah with her research.”

            “She got that by sucking your cock—”

            “And Hermione’s book completely blew yours out of the water.”

            Quest’s eyes fixed on Hermione again, and Neville shuddered. There was nothing human about the way he was looking at her—it was pure animalistic rage and fear.

            To her credit, Hermione didn’t flinch. “You’re wrong,” she told Quest. “Wrong, and your people are wrong. And if I have to fight the rest of my goddamn life to make sure everyone understands that, I will.”

            “Your life won’t be very long,” Quest sneered. “And as for your abomination children—well, I’m sure the Dark Lord and Bellatrix Lestrange have plans for them.”

            Hermione still didn’t flinch, but she did clench her fist just a little more tightly around her wand.

            Neville shook his head. He was tired of the long talks. In two swift movements, he yanked Healer Quest’s head back and dropped Veritaserum into his mouth. When he released the healer, he stepped back.

            “What are the Death Eaters planning?” he asked.

            “I don’t know.” Even under the influence of half a bottle of Veritaserum, Quest still had the sneer. “I made sure I didn’t.”

            Harry sighed. “So you have no idea?”

            “Oh, I have an idea.” Quest looked up at them. “They’re going to break every part of this world, and then they’ll break you. And you won’t be able to stop them.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So tell me...did I actually trick anyone? I figured Rawlings might be a red herring, but perhaps no. I'm still working on writing villains :)  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	21. Legacies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The right runes have been found, and Harry learns something new about his children.

The sound of stampeding feet greeted Harry when he and the others got back from imprisoning Quest.

            “What the hell?”

            Nicky came crashing in, Cedric on her heels. “We’ve got it!” she shouted.

            It took a second for Harry to remember. “Wait, you did? The runes are—”

            “All the other runes really helped; we managed to find a combination of languages that’s completely unique,” Cedric explained. “And Death found Flamel, and he gave us a starting order for the runes.”

            “So we can open the door to death, and we can shut the gate on the other side,” Nicky cut in. “The only thing that we need is power.”

            “Power? Like electricity?”

            “No, although I suppose that could work…” Nicky chewed her lip. “No, too much magic around. What we need is some really powerful magic to get the runes going.”

            “Most runes contain their own power,” Hermione said, frowning.

            “Yes, but this is like a patchwork quilt of words and phrases and abstract ideas,” Cedric said. “They’ll be able to maintain the Veil once they’re drawn, but to create it again…we need powerful stuff.”

            Harry nodded. “Alright. I’ve got…I’ve got some travelling to do.”

            “That won’t be necessary.”

            This time Harry didn’t even flinch. “Hello, Death.”

            Death stood close to the door. “So you found one of the conspirators.”

            “We did. Unfortunately he doesn’t know much.”

            “Interesting. Well, we can solve this problem another way. But you don’t need to get the Hallows, Harry.”

            Harry frowned. “I’m not going to use them to control you, Death, I swear.”

            “I understand that. But you don’t need those three objects, Harry. You just need three people.”

            “Really?”

            “Your three children.”

            “What?!”

            “I am glad it was you who had children,” Death said reflectively, ignoring him. “There’ve been other potential Masters, none of them would have been good choices.”

            “But…” Harry struggled with that. “Don’t you have to not be afraid of dying to be the Master? Why wasn’t Dumbledore?”

            “I think you know the answer to that, Harry,” Death answered. “Look at how he saw people—pawns, treasured ones perhaps, but always pawns. When he didn’t need them, they were allowed to be people. But when the greater good was involved, he took them in hand, and he played the game. You’ve never been very good at chess.”

            For the first time in his entire life, Harry saw things clearly. “He’s not afraid of death,” he said in a quiet voice. “But he still wanted to control you.”

            “He saw a strength in you that he didn’t have,” Death replied. “You can use the Hallows because you hold Ignotus’ strength. She was an accepting woman, always wanted to make things easier for others. You’re a worthy heir.”

            “Ignotus was a woman?”

            “It’s a unisex name,” Dad put in. “Just like Elvendork.”

            “That’s a name?”

            “Absolutely. If Jamie and Abby are looking for names, they should—”

            “The point is,” Death cut in, “that your children possess the powers of each Hallow. More correctly, they possess the nature to wield each one responsibly.”

            “Jamie’s the Cloak, isn’t he?” Harry said. His son had always been a protector, always accepting.

            “He is. And your son Al can wield the Resurrection Stone.”

            Harry frowned. “Really?”

            “Who better to understand both the weight and the gifts the dead bequeath? He knows the boundaries between lands, and when it’s right to walk them.”

            “I understand, but…Lily? The Elder Wand?”

            “You’ve never truly seen your daughter challenged, Harry Potter. She carries your gentleness and Ginny’s strength, and that will rein her in, but shecan fight great battles for those she defends.”

            Harry swallowed. “What does this have to do with what we are trying to accomplish?”

            “Nothing. And everything. In order to close the Doors, you will need the power of Death, and your children should be enough to create the passage from life to death and maintain it forever.”

            “But you don’t know for sure.”

            “How can I? I don’t have the gift of prophecy. I’ve never needed it before. All humans die, this is a certainty. I didn’t know that one could regain life once I collected them.”

            There was something new in Death’s tone; a coldness, an otherworldly stillness that made the hair on the back of Harry’s neck stand up.

            “This is bigger than us, isn’t it?”

            “Yes. I cannot explain that, but it does. You concentrate on your part and I…I will deal with mine.”

            Harry hadn’t quite noticed that Ginny had come in, but she put her hand on his. “So will our children be Masters?”

            “Not exactly. This power comes from one of the Hallows, and they will be the last. You raised them to be unafraid of death, and you raised them as a unit, as a proper family without competition or cruelty. They have a powerful bond of love, and because they will not betray them, they will not pass on their powers—the Hallows will be satisfied. Their children will have some of their traits, I’m sure, but there will be no more Masters in your line. Not for a while, at least .”

“But for now, they…we need to bring the three of them together, don’t we?”

            “If all three of them are there, it will charge the wards.”

            “But Jamie’s with Abby,” Ginny mused. “And it’ll be dangerous—and he wants to stay alive for her. And I don’t want any of my kids walking into a death trap.”

            Harry’s Dad cleared his throat. “It seems to me like the best option here is to take back the Veil. If there are Death Eaters there, we can deal with them, and then we can just rush your kids down together. Jamie doesn’t have to be in any danger.”

            Harry looked at Audrey, who was twisting her hands. “What do you think, Audrey? I know we said the Ministry wasn’t a good battleground.”

            “It isn’t, especially not the Department of Mysteries. But we’d have to do it eventually, and clearly we were wrong about some things. Some people.”

            “Audrey, none of us thought of Quest as a potential spy,” Harry soothed her. “None of us did, honestly. What did he really have to gain?”

            “Nothing,” Hermione chimed in. “He just wanted others to be destroyed—that’s the most dangerous kind.”

            “He’s in prison now,” Harry said grimly. “He’s out of the game. Now we just have to mitigate the damage. Neville, I think you should talk to Hannah again, and get the school ready to move back to the castle. We need to get the kids back to safety, so when we take back the Ministry we finish this. Then we deal with…everything else.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a heads up, the next few chapters will contain a fair bit of action and not much fluff. We're into the intense parts now, so strap all of the way in!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	22. Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group goes to the Ministry, some redheads kick ass, and someone makes the right choice for the first time in over forty years.

Ginny hadn’t gone in through the Visitor’s Entrance in years; she always took the Floo, or rarely the toilets when Harry came in with her. Her poor husband had never quite gotten used to the Floo, but it was faster. And easier to bring groups of people through at once.

            Right now there were nine others crammed in with her—Al, Sirius, Fiona, Remus, Dora, Neville, Fred, and Harry’s Mum and Dad. How they’d managed that was something they would argue about later. The others were waiting, ready at a moment’s notice to come to the Ministry by Portkey, which wasn’t ideal considering they weren’t quite sure what they were walking into. No, they would go in first, ideally take everyone down, and then summon the rest to stay and guard the place.

            When the elevator doors opened Fiona was the first one out, hovering above them as she stretched her chair out again. “Sorry,” she grimaced. “I was as small as I could be.”

            “That’s plenty, dear,” Ginny said, smoothing down her robes. “Now, how do we get down to the Department?”

            Fiona looked around quickly. “Shouldn’t we—”

            _“Hominem revilio,”_ Neville said. The fine dust came from his wand, sweeping through the atrium. Nothing settled, and nothing glowed.

            “It’s clear up here.” Ginny rolled her eyes. It was the same way at Hogwarts during the war. No advance guard anywhere; the arrogant feelings of a group who ruled with fear.

            Come to think of it, the same people might be below.

            Ginny looked at her son, heart twisting. “You promise to be careful, alright?”

            “I will, Mum. I promise. I know how to cast Bat Bogeys and everything.”

            Ginny grinned. She put a hand on his shoulder. “I love you, sweetheart.”

            “Love you too, Mum.”

            Al was good at strategy, a decent trickster, and he got an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Even Harry said that Al was better than he was at duelling.

            Ginny still went first as they went down Fiona’s path.

            According to Fiona, the Department of Mysteries people were sick of waiting around in the elevator every day to get down to work. On the other hand, it was impossible to Apparate down there, and any kind of Portkey would fuck with the delicate spell work that wove the Department together, and that would be “absolutely fucking terrible”, in the words of every Ministry employee.

            “So this got built a few generations ago,” Fiona explained in a hush, right behind Ginny’s shoulder. “We’re the only ones who know that door leads anywhere. Everyone else just reckons it’s a painting.”

            “Has anyone ever gotten down here accidentally?” Lily Potter asked.

            “I think so, ages ago. Apparently the person got so interested they decided to stay.”

            “Oh yeah?”

            “Yeah, it was Edith.”

            Ginny grinned, but then she stopped in her tracks and one of Fiona’s wheels banged her shoulder.

            “Ouch!”

            “Sorry!”

            “What’s wrong, Ginny?”

            “Rookwood worked in the Department of Mysteries,” Ginny said slowly. “So he would know about this place.”

            “He does,” someone said ahead.

            Ginny didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. She just aimed towards the voice. “ _Petrificus Totalus!”_

            The figure collapsed, and Ginny hurried forward, her wand held alight. When she saw who it was, she couldn’t stop her gasp.

            She’d never met the man in person, but she’d seen pictures, and Harry and Ron and Hermione had been very descriptive. There was really too much rat in the face of Peter Pettigrew.

            The passageway they were in was just wide enough for two people to stand abreast, and Al was standing beside her right away. “Mum, that’s—”

            “I know.” Ginny’s hands were shaking. It took everything in her not to use every foul curse she knew on the helpless man, who’d made her husband helpless for so long.

            A low growl sounded behind her, and Ginny snapped back into control. “Sirius, _don’t_ ,” she hissed. “We need to—” well, what did they need to do, really?

            “We need to find out what he knows.” Lily Potter was behind her, and Ginny trembled. The anger in her mother-in-law’s voice sounded so much older than twenty-one years old.

            Ginny glared at Peter Pettigrew. “I’m going to unbind your mouth,” she said quietly. “If you make a noise, you’re going to have twelve angry people here, and not a one of us would hesitate to harm you into losing your voice permanently. Clear?”

            Pettigrew blinked twice. Ginny gritted her teeth, and relaxed the Body Bind.

            To his credit, Pettigrew didn’t speak right away. He breathed rapidly, looking at the faces around him. Finally he spoke again, in the same squeaky voice.

            “Thank god you went this way.”

            “Agreed. Only one monster to deal with,” Sirius snapped.

            Peter couldn’t flinch, but his eyes flickered just a bit. “They knew you’d come eventually—it was only a matter of time. They had a whole line of booby traps the long way round. No people, just—”

            “Just spells, and those wouldn’t show up unless we were looking for them,” Ginny interrupted. “Well, that sounds right.”

            Pettigrew’s gaze landed on Al, and his eyes widened in shock. “Harry?”

            “No. I’m his son.” Al’s body was nearly as rigid as Pettigrew’s. “You didn’t orphan me.”

            “Then you must be his mother,” Pettigrew said to Ginny.

            “Yes,” Ginny said shortly. “So you must know that we haven’t got much patience. Why didn’t you start fighting us the moment you saw us?”

            “I don’t want to.”

            “You don’t want to?” Remus snapped. “Well, what if we want to?”

            “Then you have that right,” Pettigrew replied calmly. “I know what I did; believe me, I’ve spent the last twenty-eight years paying for it. And I’m sure when you solve this, I’ll go right back. But I can help you right now, and if you’ll let me I would be very grateful.”

            Sirius snorted. “Once a traitor, always a traitor.”

            “Maybe. But at least this time I’ll be betraying the right group.” Pettigrew looked at Lily, and then James, Remus and Sirius. The Marauders, all together again. Then he looked back to Ginny and Al. “I don’t want your children to suffer the way I made you suffer through my cowardice. I’m begging you, let me help you now. The debt I owe will never be repaid, but I can’t sit idle anymore.”

            Ginny looked back at the Marauders, who were standing together. In that minute they really looked like children, no older than her brothers’ children. 

            “We can’t forgive you,” Remus said at last. “We’ve…Peter, we’ve been trying.”

            Peter nodded.

            “But if you’re willing to help…we accept.” Sirius glowered at him. “You try and stab us in the back, though, and terrible things will happen to you before you can blink.”

            “I understand.”

            Ginny took a deep breath, and released the full Body-Bind. Pettigrew got to his feet unsteadily. To his credit, he didn’t try to prolong the conversation; he just jerked his head. “Come this way.”

            “How many are there?” Ginny asked as they moved forward.

            “Thirteen altogether,” Pettigrew answered. “Not including myself. Seven are waiting in the antechamber, and six are within the Veil room. All the others are with the Dark Lord.”

            “You could say his name once,” Al said, surprising Ginny.

            “How did you know that?”

            “I’ve…I’ve spoken to you before. In the Marauder’s Map.”

            Pettigrew’s step faltered. “So it is still my younger self, then. How strange.”

            “You were decent once upon a time. How did you go so wrong?”

            Pettigrew looked over his shoulder, and he looked so weary Ginny almost felt sorry for him. “Don’t make the mistake I made, boy. Don’t think that just because you were a good person when things were easy means you don’t have to try and be good when things get hard.”

            Al had no answer to that, and they kept walking in silence.

            “We should be outside the Veil Room right now,” Fiona whispered suddenly. Everyone stopped walking.

            “Yes. Are you certain you want to burst in?”

            “Who’s in there?”

            “The Lestranges, Crabbe and Goyle Srs., MacNair and Rookwood.”

            Ginny grimaced. It wasn’t the worst of the lot, but Bellatrix was there, and in the dim wandlight she saw Neville go rigid.

            “You don’t have to fight her,” she mumbled.

            “Oh yes, I do,” Neville replied. “And I will.”

            “We’re not calling dibs here,” Dora hissed. “Quite a few of us have a score to settle with that—”

            Ginny was familiar with swear words. It came with the territory when you were a professional Quidditch player, the youngest of seven, and mother to inventive children. But she’d never heard the word that Dora spat out.

            “It’s an old Romany word,” Dora explained when she saw Ginny’s look. “And it fits, I promise. Dad explained it thoroughly.”

             Ginny took a deep breath. “Alright. Al, Fiona, you _stay back_ , both of you. And if we tell you to run, you go as fast as you can and make a Portkey. Understand?”

            “Yes Mrs. Potter,” Fiona replied.

            “Yes Mum.”

            “Okay then. Half of us stay in this room to fight, the others go to the antechamber and deal with the ones there. Knock them out, tie them up, whatever’s necessary. Keep them away from their Marks.”

            “On three?” Neville asked. “One, two, three!”

            “Reducto!” Ginny shouted.

            She sprang forward, hoping the Death Eaters would be too surprised to react quickly, and she was right. All of them were masked, but it wasn’t hard to tell them apart, especially Crabbe and Goyle’s fathers, who didn’t even have their wands out.

            That didn’t bother Ginny. Two silent spells, and the duo were out, cords wrapped around their limbs.

            Six people rushed to the right—Ginny didn’t pay attention to who. Her son was beside her, and so was her future niece in law, and Neville was right behind her, facing the only woman in the room with a fury in his face that spelled terror and doom for anyone stupid enough to cross him.

            Well, stupid or insane.

            Bellatrix threw off her mask. Death had restored her looks, but somehow she still looked starved, still mad with power. Beauty made her frightening. “Itty Longbottom!” she cried. “What a pleasant surprise!”

            Neville responded with a curse that Bellatrix just managed to duck. It hit the wall and blew the tiles off for six feet. Bellatrix’s smile vanished, and they began to duel properly.

            Ginny leapt for Rookwood, their spells colliding to form an ugly orange cloud that Ginny knew better to breathe in. She was rusty, but she didn’t have her long hair anymore, and she knew how to fight Death Eaters. Rookwood was going to fall.

            A quick check of the room revealed that Al and Fiona had backed MacNair into a corner, Fiona hovering over his head, ready to bring her chair down onto his head. Neville and Bellatrix were still duelling, but in total silence, their faces set and spells sure. Rodolphus Lestrange and Lily Potter were practically dancing around the dais, charms and curses flying in equal measure.

            Ginny turned her attention back to her duel, and was delighted to see that Rookwood had indeed made a mistake. His aim was just a bit to the left, easy to deflect with a Shield Charm, and with one of the counter-curses Nicky and Lara had created together….

            Rookwood’s howl of pain as his curse was spat back at him by a ball of blue light was immensely satisfying. He stumbled, and it was enough to let Ginny Stun and Bind him. A groan from across the room and a triumphant shout that was (thankfully) on the right side of a screech told her that MacNair was down.

            Lily was still duelling Rodolphus, and Ginny dashed to help her mother-in-law. Rodolphus was being chased by a swarm of red birds, and all Ginny had to do was stick out her foot and send him flying, landing on the steps of the dais with a groan.

            “Lovely,” Lily said with a fierce grin. She waved her wand and Rodolphus was bound in crisscrossed ropes.

            “How do you get that pattern?” Ginny asked.

            “You need to visualize it. It takes practice—” Lily cut herself off. “We need to help the others!”

            She leapt from the dais, floating down gently and hit the ground at a rough run, already firing off more birds. Ginny almost followed her, but then she heard Neville cry out.

            He was favouring his left leg, still standing tall, circling Bellatrix. She wasn’t smiling, but the cruelty in her face was bordering on the triumphant.

            “I wondered if you’d gotten any better since the last time that we met in this room,” she snarled. “I suppose not. Crucio!”

            But Neville blocked the blow, and he advanced on Bellatrix now. “I’m done with you,” he said, and the eerie calm in his voice gave Ginny goosebumps. “I am done with you, and the world of the living is done with you. You are never going to hurt another person.”

            “You can’t stop me forever.”

            “Actually, I can.” Neville pointed his wand directly into Bellatrix’s face. “ _Reducto!”_

Ginny gasped as the spell hit perfectly, and Bellatrix disintegrated. It wasn’t in chunks of flesh, thank Merlin, but the explosion of dust and ashes was somehow worse. It spoke of what little humanity Bellatrix had left in her.

            Neville looked up at Ginny, and the rage was gone from his face, and there was only confusion there, like he couldn’t quite believe what he did.

            “Professor?”

            Fiona’s voice was low, without expression. Al was staring too, his wand resting at his side.

            “I—” Neville stopped. “I couldn’t bear the thought of her existing anymore. I just couldn’t.”

            “Is she gone for good?” Al asked.

            “Yes,” Fiona said, in that same low tone. “You destroyed the spirit of her; there’s nothing left.”

            To Ginny’s shock, a wide grin split her son’s face. “That was _wicked_ , Uncle Neville!”

            Neville blinked. “I shouldn’t—that was awful—”

            “Makes sense for an awful woman,” Al replied. “I hated her. I just didn’t know you could…well, Reducto people.”

            “I wasn’t sure either,” Neville admitted. “But I remembered your Mum blowing up the dummies we had in the Room of Requirement, and I thought—well, if I could test this on anyone, why not her?”

            “I think it was an excellent move,” Dora called. She was shepherding a collection of unconscious bodies through the air, Sirius and Remus flanking her. “Now there’s no need to keep her around with the rest.” She waved her wand and the bodies hit the floor none too gently. “Which we’re going to have to do—people need to stay here to watch this lot and to stop anymore from getting in.”

            “No alerts got through,” Lily Potter reported. “Unless Voldemort is planning to check in any time soon, I think we might be okay.”

            “He’s not paying us any mind,” Pettigrew said quietly. He was looking at the fallen bodies of the people…well, they were once his comrades, weren’t they? They were the people for whom he’d turned his back entirely on his old friends, his old life. But his expression was unreadable. “We’re only here as guards, but he doesn’t expect anything to happen. He’s relying on his spy.”

            Ginny got down from the dais and went to her son. “The spy’s been found, Pettigrew. And he’s not in any position to help. We can feed false information for long enough to get my other children here, and then the Veil can be restored.”

            Pettigrew looked at her. “You have other children with Harry?”

            “Yes. Jamie and Lily Luna.”

            A flash of regret came over Pettigrew’s face, but it was gone the next instant. “Saving the day seems to run in your blood.”

            “I think it’s more of a family trait,” Ginny answered. “Blood doesn’t always come into it.” She shared a look with Neville.

            “Right,” Sirius said gruffly. He still hadn’t looked at Pettigrew. “I think those of us who are already dead should stay put.” He raised a hand to stop Ginny. “I’m not saying you can’t fight, but we’re going back no matter what happens. I’d like to make sure the living stay that way.”

            Ginny couldn’t really fault his logic.

            “I’ll stay here too, Mum,” Al said. “I’ve got to be here anyways.”

            Ginny took a deep breath. “Alright. Fiona and Neville and I will go back and let everyone know. ~~~~

            “We’ll be back soon,” Neville promised. “And when we get back, we’ll open the door.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy March, everyone!   
> Also, one of my headcanons for the Muggle side of Tonks' family is that they're Romani, immigrating to Britain in the late 1800s. This will be expanded on when I do her chapter of 'Kin'.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	23. Moving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's team heads for the Hogwarts students, but two people fall into a trap.

            Harry tossed a coat to his daughter and ignored her eyeroll. “It’s going to be cold out there,” he called to the rest. “Make sure you’re dressed for it.”

            Ron was shrugging into his coat too. “You ready, mate?”

            Harry wasn’t sure how to answer that. He wasn’t sure of anything anymore. Now that the immediate danger of identifying and trapping the spy was over, reality was starting to sink in. The Council—hell, it was a Council he wasn’t even really on, he was just Neville’s stand-in when he couldn’t make it—but the Council’s entire purpose was to avoid corruption. And now his students were in danger because Quest hadn’t been detected.

            “Hey.” Ron patted his shoulder. “Harry.”

            “I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly. “I put us all in danger.”

            “You didn’t, Harry. Quest did that. And you were able to trap him and stop him doing any more harm.”

            “I thought we finally got it right,” Harry muttered. “I thought we’d finally built something that couldn’t be betrayed.”

            “Harry, don’t be stupid. No one can guard against everything. That’s just how it goes. And Quest didn’t exactly give you any reason to suspect him. Hell, if the Death Eaters had completed their attack…I don’t know if you would have ever found out.”

            Harry nodded.

            “Just because you can be tricked doesn’t mean that you’re naïve,” Ron said gently. “And it doesn’t mean that everything you’ve done is wrong. All it means is that you’ve learned something, and you’ll be able to do something better next time.”

            That made Harry smile. “Says the man who owns a joke shop.”

            “That’s the thing—I wrote that in our last newsletter. I did an article about prank victims.” Ron looked immensely proud of himself. “I wrote it on my own, and Mione only had to correct a couple points.”

            “Well done.”

            “Thank you. Now stop slagging yourself off, and let’s go get your kids safe.”

            Harry gripped Ron’s shoulder for a minute, and then he pointed his wand to his throat. “Sonorous. **Right, can everyone be quiet for a moment?”**

The room’s occupants all jumped.

            “Sorry.” Harry lowered his voice. “Now, is everyone clear on the plan?”

            “Your team’s going to the island to get the Hogwarts kids,” Hermione answered. “My team is waiting to hear back from the people at the Ministry, and once it’s clear there we’ll go to start setting up the wards.”

            “And then we’re going to raise some hell,” Lily Luna said, gesturing to her team.

            “What exactly are you doing?” Harry asked. He trusted the mischief-makers, but they were still just kids…

            “There are two major routes to Hogwarts from the island,” Percy answered. “You lot are going to come in from the south by the train, but if you were bringing all the kids by broom, it would be easier to go north-east. We’re going to create an illusion of that, and that should give you plenty of time to get everyone on the train. And once they’re on the train, they’re safe.”

            That was true. After the war, the Hogwarts Express was modified with every safety spell known to magic. As new ones were invented (and rigorously tested), they were added onto the train, carved into every piece of it. It still looked the same—same compartments, same sweets trolley, same worn carpet. But nothing could stop the train by force, not even if a hurricane swept across it.

            “And when this works?”

            “We’ll duck away the moment they start fighting the illusions,” Rose answered. “They’re pretty close to realistic now; Lucy’s made them almost solid. We can duck away, and once we’re sure we’re in the clear we’ll meet you at Hogwarts.”

            Harry nodded, turning over the plan in his mind. “I think you should Apparate back,” he said at last. “You can Apparate as far as Hogsmeade, and Becky Sprout will let you in.” Becky had taken over Honeydukes from her mothers a few years ago, once Pomona and Ariana decided to start a farm for plant-creatures like Mandrakes.

            “We can do that,” Percy said promptly. “And we’ve got the gold coins, so—”

            Hermione winced and pulled her own gold coin from her pocket. “I’ve got to adjust the heat on these things.” She looked at it, and Harry held his breath. It was either bad news or…

            “They’ve got everything secured,” Hermione said brightly. “And—” her eyes went wide. “Bellatrix is…is gone.”

            “What do you mean gone?”

            “Neville exploded her. That was her spirit. She’s…she’s gone for good.” Hermione’s lips trembled, and Rose reached for her mother.

            Harry just stared at Hermione for a long moment, trying to understand, to absorb that idea. Bellatrix Lestrange was gone. Forever.

            _She’s never going to be able to hurt my children._

His worst fear during all of this was gone. There were terrible, horrible people they still needed to fight, including Voldemort himself, but something settled in his heart. This was possible. They could bring everyone home.

            “That’s grand,” Harry said at last, his throat choked up. He and Ron reached for Hermione at the same time. Whether it was Neville’s broken parents at St. Mungo’s, or Sirius falling through the Veil, or that horrible night at Malfoy Manor, or Tonks lying still and cold…a nightmare was banished.

            Harry looked around. “We’ll get there, you lot. We’re going to finish this.”

            He’d said as much a few different ways over the last few days. That was the first time he believed it.

            “The rest of us will be fine here,” Molly Sr. said. “If there’s any news we’ll let you know.”

            Ron cleared his throat. “Thanks Mum. Let’s go, then. Harry, are you taking your broom or the bike?”

            “Definitely the broom,” Harry answered. “I don’t want to get too far ahead of you lot.”

            Ron grabbed his Flamebolt, a present from Harry a few years back, and raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like a challenge, Potter.”

The flight to the island was nearly three hours from Grimmauld Place, and Harry’s good mood was gone halfway through. It was cold over the ocean,

and dark clouds overhead threatened rain.

            There was no chance to talk, and no real reason. There was a plan, they had to get there, and it was going to be an uncomfortable trip. Once they were there, the flying would be over; a tunnel below the island led to the mainland, where the train would be waiting; had been waiting ever since it brought the students to the island the week before.

            _No, it wasn’t even a full week._

Harry focused on the horizon. Any minute now he would be able to see the island, which didn’t mean that they were close, but it did mean that they would be closer. And closer to this being over was all he really needed, and—and there it was.

            He bowed his shoulders, made himself as small as possible, and shot forward with every bit of speed he could coax from his broom.

            When they were just under a mile away, Harry raised his hands, stopping so abruptly he nearly fell into the sea. The others with him stopped more gracefully.

            “There’s a barrier just ahead,” Harry shouted over the wind. “I’m going to fly through it and allow you lot in.”

            “Didn’t that barrier already break, if the Death Eaters got in?” Ron shouted.

            Harry shook his head. “They’re dead, remember? The spells didn’t work on them. But I can guarantee they’ll work on you lot.”

            He’d designed the barrier himself, and it had quite a nasty kick. It took a tattoo to get past it, otherwise you’d end up underwater, drowning without actually being in danger of death. The island would be alerted, and they’d come to get you. Eventually.

            Maybe he was too protective of his students. Harry didn’t care.

            Harry shivered as he passed through the barrier, but he was still on his broom, so it worked. His tattoo was on his back, which meant that the front part of him always felt a bit odd going through.

            Harry waved his wand in a complicated movement that Neville had come up with (the bastard was fond of overcomplicated wrist flicks), and the barrier solidified. Harry heard Ron’s cry of alarm.

            “It’s alright,” Harry called. He pressed his back against the wall for ten seconds, and when he turned a door appeared. He opened it. “Come on in. Go straight to the island and start rounding up the kids. I’ll close the door.”

            Mad-Eye was the last through, and he grunted his approval as Harry knocked on the wall, testing that it was solid. Happily it was, and when Harry closed the door and pressed his back against it for a moment, it became transparent once again.

            When he landed on the island, his breath caught in his throat. There they were, all the students, with bags (Undetectably Engorged, of course), huddled together in groups. They were so damn young, _so_ young, and Harry wanted to just take them all away, far away where nothing could hurt them anymore. But as he’d known for a long time, there was no such place. All he could give them was a safer place, and a quick, easy way there.

            He saw a flash of silver hair, and Scorpius darted out the crowd of his students, flinging himself at Draco, who caught him up in shaking arms. Harry looked desperately for his own son.

            “Dad.”

            Harry turned. James stood with Abby, holding his broom.

            Harry hugged them as tightly as he could. “Are you two alright?” he asked them, his voice breaking.

            “We’re doing alright,” Abby answered. She caught sight of her parents. “Oh, _Mum…”_

Harry let her go, but he kept an arm around James. “Has Hannah explained to you?”

            James nodded. “Abby and I have talked it over. She’s going to Hogwarts with Madam Hannah while I go…I suppose I’ll go to the Ministry. Al’s there, yeah?”

            “He is; he’s there with your Mum and some others. Li-lu’s going to join you both once she’s done creating a distraction to rival a hurricane.”

            “That sounds like Lil,” James said with a subdued grin.

            Harry patted his shoulder. “I know that you don’t want to go, Jamie. And I wouldn’t ask it of you if there was any other way.”

            “I know, Dad. But I’m sure we’ll be fine, and then this…this will be over.”

            “That’s my good lad,” Harry whispered. “Go with your Uncle Ron, alright? He’s leading the first group back.”

            “You’re not coming?”

            “I’m going to fly over this lot getting to the train,” Harry explained. “Then we’ll head for the Ministry.

James hugged him hard. “I’ll see you soon then, Dad.”

            “You will. I promise.”

            James walked away, his broom slung over his shoulder, and Harry nodded to Ron before heading over to Draco. Scorpius had his head on his father’s shoulder, looking like the gangly teenager he’d been not so very long ago, instead of a very serious Professor of Herbology.

            “Hullo Scorpius,” Harry said gently.

            “Hi Harry.” Scorpius’ eyes were dry, but that didn’t mean much. He’d never cried much even when he was little—nothing to do with Draco or Astoria. He’d be so sad, trying to cry, but nothing happened.

            “Are you going back to Hogwarts?” Harry asked. “Because if you want you can go with Ron; he’s leading a group to the Ministry.”

            “I want to stay with my students,” Scorpius said. “And—and my grandfather.”

            Harry looked around for Lucius Malfoy, and saw him standing several feet away. He had a strange aura about him, strange because it was so different than before. All the returned had it, Harry realized, but it’d been so long since he’d seen them that the details were fuzzy anyways. He’d seen Lucius Malfoy less than a week ago, old but healthy, grayer but alive. Now there was…less of him, somehow. Maybe his soul was coming untethered from his body; maybe he was transforming into a soul. Harry had no idea.

            “Father,” Draco said, his voice breaking as he followed Harry’s line of sight. 

            Harry wanted to step back and give them some privacy. He wanted to let them grieve, to have this moment between the three generations. But the wind was howling now, and it was getting dark, and they had to lay the dead to rest.

            “We’ve got to get moving,” Harry said. “I’m sorry, but—”

            “No, of course,” Draco said. He squared his shoulders and patted Scorpius on the back. “Come on, son. We’re going to get your students to safety.”

            Harry waited outside, watching as the crowd of students moved, thirty at a time, down into the tunnel. When the were only ninety left, Ron and the others saluted.

            “You can get through fine,” Harry called. “The barrier’s not interested in whether you’re leaving. Fly high. Be safe.”

            “See you soon, mate,” Ron called back.

            Harry watched them kick off and go high into the air, the wind blowing them towards safety.             “They’ll be okay, won’t they Bear?”

            Harry turned. Maia stood beside Abby. Victoire waited not far away with the three children clinging to her.

            “There you are.” Harry pulled both girls into his arms. “How are you holding up?”

            “We’re living, Bear.” Maia pulled away. “Are we—is it really close?”

            “It is. Death is sure this will work, and with the runes restored, there’s no reason why it shouldn’t.”

            “And Jamie’s going to finish it?”

            “He and Al and Li-Lu need to be there to finish it,” Harry said slowly. The story of the Hallows wasn’t a secret, exactly, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever told Abby about it. And if he did, would it be helpful?

            “Does the baby need to be there too?” Abby asked. “Since they’re Jamie’s son?”

            Ah. She did know.

            “No,” Harry said quietly. “Only my kids need to be there. They have the powers I’ve passed down; according to Death, your baby will have traits, but not the full power.” _Or the full responsibility._

            “Alright then.” Abby stepped back too. “Mum and Dad are going to walk me through the tunnel. I’ll see you on the other side, Harry.”

            “Of course,” Harry promised.

            Vic rushed over and gave him a quick hug, and the three kids hugged him too—“Grand-Bear!” but Hannah was gesturing urgently, and the last thirty people went into the tunnel’s entrance.

            Harry felt the coin in his pocket glow, and yanked it out. _Distraction going off. All fine. Love Lily._

Harry pressed his lips together. All he could do now was hope that things would continue to be “all fine” as they moved forward.

            _Please, let this be the last night._

Hannah was the last to leave, and she kissed her husband first. “Bailey and Alice are up ahead,” she told him. “Ernie and Terry are watching them.”

            “I’ll probably see them before you do,” Neville said gently. “And I’ll see you soon.”

            Once Hannah was out of sight, Neville turned to Harry. “Do we need to renew the wards?”

            “The barrier will be plenty,” Harry replied. “And if they get through, well…I did tell Ron and George that they had carte blanche for setting up intruder traps.”

            Neville smirked. “So there might be some canary shaped Death Eaters?”

            “Possibly.” Harry summoned his broom. “Come on, we need to get to the rendezvous point.”

            Neville pulled a key out of his pocket and stood in front of the tunnel entrance. Reaching into thin air, he turned the key first to the left, and then to the right. The air shimmered, and the tunnel entrance disappeared. Only Neville or Ernie could open it again.

            The tunnel stretched for the fifteen kilometres between the island and the ocean, and another five kilometres after that. The kids were being whisked along by carts (Ernie Macmillan refused to walk even a tenth of that distance guiding kids), but they weren’t quite as fast as their brooms. It was even money whether they would meet the first group of students when they got to the other end, in a hollowed out cave accessible through a gnarled oak tree. The Hogwarts Express waited there, and all that needed to be done then was to make sure all the kids got on the train.

            They did get to the cave just a few seconds before the first cart arrived, carrying Ernie, Terry, Neville’s children, and a large group of first and second years.

            “Harry!” Ernie called. “Good to see you.” He tossed Harry a magical clipboard. “Can you be a dear and check people off? We’ll get them settled on the train.” His tone was reassuring, but he looked weary, holding baby Alice carefully.

            Harry stood next to the train door and let all of his students pass, checking their names off as they went in. His long hours of memorizing class lists with pictures paid off—even though the kids looked smaller and more frightened than ever, some of them with tearstained faces and others who just looked confused, he knew exactly who each child was.

            And when the last cart came through the tunnel and Neville held Hannah and their children together, all the children were on the train. There was no sign of trouble, nothing to do but help Neville onto the train.

            “You need to go with the kids,” Harry insisted. “Just—just in case, alright?”

            Neville hugged him tightly. “We’re going to see each other again soon,” he promised.

            Harry stepped back and watched as the train rolled away. It was just him and Oliver and Katie now, watching the train leave, back to safety, back to Hogwarts.

            “Has there been anything from the distraction team?”

            “No, but the distraction needs to last for at least another hour,” Harry replied, pushing down his worry. “Come on, we need to get going.”      

            Pulling out the coin, he tapped in a message. _Leaving the cave now. Headed back._ He waited a moment for an answer as first Oliver, then Katie took off.

            _We’re about an hour out, mate._

Harry took a deep breath, and kicked off.

            They flew back straight across the country, heading not for London but for essentially the other coast. It wasn’t until they took a sharp turn to the south-east that Harry’s coin warmed again.

            Harry took it out of his pocket and examined it. _J is at the Ministry. All fine._

Still not Lily, but at least two of his children were safe for sure.

            _But where is Lily? What’s happening?_

            It took another fifteen minutes of flying for Harry to give in. Still flying (he’d gotten good at this years ago, before they ever had the mirrors to communicate, and he was contacting Ginny during an Auror flight), he tapped his coin. _Lily Luna, are you alright?_

There was no answer. Harry fought down panic. Lily was the only one with a coin—it was safer that way. She would answer, he was sure.

            About twenty kilometres later, the coin warmed again in the palm of his glove. Relieved, Harry pulled out the coin.

            _Right behind you, Daddy._

Harry couldn’t even turn before he was hit in the chest—harder than a Bludger, harder than a Beater’s club. It burned along his ribs, brighter than the vest could protect, but it took the edge off just enough for him to cry out a warning.

            And then there was a dark figure in the rain with no broom or Thestral, and a red bolt of light—

            And then there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry about the delay here; my Grammy had a stroke earlier this week, so things have been tense. Thankfully she's recovering well, and is already fussing at the nurses to let her out of bed (which considering she used to be a nurse is silly). To make up for that (and the cliffhanger) I will post the next chapter in two days!   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	24. Mending

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's been captured, and the final confrontation occurs.

            It was the sharp pain in his chest that woke Harry. There were other discomforts, most clearly a deep, wet coldness in the air around him. But Harry recognized the pain, and snapped himself awake.

            He was tied to a rough stone with his glasses askew. There was damp grass under his feet, and there were people watching him with black robes. Most of them had hoods over their faces, but one stood apart from the others.

            Voldemort stared back at Harry, and it wasn’t a Boggart, it wasn’t a nightmare. His scar didn’t hurt, but for the first time in years he felt a pressure in his mind, like someone was trying to get in.

            Harry swallowed hard. “Hello Tom.”

            Voldemort’s lips curled into a hateful smile. “Harry Potter,” he said quietly. “You’ve grown up so much. Well done indeed. Pity it wasn’t enough to stop me in the end.”

            “You’re not going to win here,” Harry snapped. He felt a pang of regret—his family, his students, he’d promised he would try—but trying was all he could do. If he had to go back with the other Returned…well. That was how it was going to happen.

            “Am I not?” Voldemort asked. “Although I suppose you can’t quite see the children.”

            Harry couldn’t breathe for a minute. No, they were on the train…

            But it wasn’t human children that Voldemort gestured to at all.

            A horde of cloaked figures rose from the ground into the air, but unlike the humans, their cloaks were in rags. Their faces were half covered, and the mouths that were showing—Harry remembered them.

            “Yes, the babies. How interesting.”

            “They’ve secured quite a few souls,” Voldemort answered. He gestured to two figures holding hands among the crowd, and they came forward. “Remove your hoods, my dears. You have earned that right.”

            Annabelle Martin was the first to obey, and the woman beside her must be Marina.

            “These women were born after I left this earth,” Voldemort said quietly. “And yet their loyalty has brought me back.”

            “Congratulations,” Harry snapped. The coldness was getting to him, and memories of being tied like this, and of facing Voldemort and the Death Eaters like this, being alone, were starting to creep in. But he fought it back, even as Annabelle waved her wand and one of the Dementors, bigger than the others, came closer.

            “Yes, and I’m aware that you want my time here to be short. I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen—in fact, for as long as you continue to exist, you will be with me.”

            “I’ve got other plans.” Harry tried to shrug. “Like I said, you aren’t going to win.”

            “You and I have both been alive long enough to know that there are different ways to win,” Voldemort answered. “For instance, one way would be for myself and all of my Death Eaters to remain here and murder every last person born since my defeat, and then every single person who had a hand in our losses last time. But if that cannot happen, so be it. I will stay here, and everyone I can save will stay here, and we will fight as long as it takes to take away everything you’ve built, Harry Potter. And you will see it all.”

            “Not bloody likely.”

            Voldemort’s lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Oh, but you will. You see, these Dementors have collected several souls, but I cannot use them. Those faithful to me are able to, but I of course must receive the first soul.”

            Harry could tell where this was going, and he didn’t like it. _You have to keep stalling. The kids will stop this._

“You see, thanks to your destruction of my Horcruxes, even this body cannot hold any simple soul. I ravaged myself too completely for that to be a possibility. So I need a stronger soul…one that has held a piece of me before.”

            Harry winced. “Oh, brilliant. Me again, of course.”

            Voldemort’s eyes hardened, narrowing into slits. “You thought you beat me, didn’t you, Potter? You were safe and happy—you could marry a blood traitor and have blood traitor children and create a world where magic is meaningless; it’s all about the _person_.”

            “Says the bloke who had a Muggle father.”

            Voldemort struck him across the face, and Harry’s head slammed against the rock.

            “It is precisely because I know how hard I had to work to be worthy of my lineage,” Voldemort breathed in his ear, and now Harry’s scar was really starting to twinge, “that I know how truly unworthy so many are.” He pulled away. “But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Your soul will do nicely to keep me alive, and I will be sure to sustain your consciousness while I rip your precious family to shreds. You can watch every moment of their suffering.”

            Harry clenched his jaw. “They’ll defeat you.”

            “Are you certain? Well, perhaps you’re right. I may need a younger soul, but one as strong as yours.”

            There was a movement in the group of Death Eaters, and two came forward, dragging—

            Harry’s heart dropped.

            Lily Luna hung limply between the Death Eaters, her face chalk white, her body trembling.

            “This is your youngest child, isn’t it?” Voldemort enquired.

            “Lily…” Harry yanked on his bonds, but they held fast.

            “Ah, Lily. After your Mudblood cunt of a mother. Predictable to the last.” Voldemort yanked Lily roughly so she swooned against him. “I don’t think your little girl likes Dementors very much.”

            Lily’s eyes fell on Harry, and she struggled briefly before collapsing again. “Daddy…”

            Voldemort laughed that horrible, high-pitched laugh that had never left Harry’s dreams. “Oh dear, Daddy can’t save you now. You see, if he does the noble _Gryffindor_ thing and give his soul, he will have to watch me torture you to death. And if he doesn’t, and I take your soul…well, you can watch how well your father withstands the Cruciatus Curse. Likely he’ll go mad before he dies, but madness won’t stop the pain. Eventually the heart will give out, and you’ll be able to see Thestrals before we get to your mother and brothers.”

            Harry could only stare, only stare and hate Voldemort and the two smug girls who’d brought him back and every other hateful person in this clearing. Because Voldemort was right. He couldn’t protect his daughter.

            _Let her go_ , he hissed. _She’s just a child, she can’t hurt you._

_And lose a chance to show you that there is nothing you can do to stop me?_ Voldemort replied. _No, Potter. Your daughter is going to die, by your hand or by mine. And that is not your choice._ “I’ve changed my mind; it’s all up to you, Miss Potter,” he said in English. “This is your fate. Choose your path.”

            Lily murmured something, her head drooping. She looked so terrified, and Harry had to fight back tears.

            “I’m afraid I can’t hear you,” Voldemort mocked her. “Here—” he threw her into Harry, and she collided with his chest, making pain spark up every single rib. “Tell Daddy your choice.”

            The Death Eaters around them laughed. “Feeling weak, little cousin?” Annabelle crooned.

            Lily clung to his shoulders as she drew herself up, hands still shaking. But to Harry’s shock, for a second her eyes were clear, and she winked. Then it was gone, and a desperate little girl stared at him.

            Harry took a deep breath. If he was right, he might be able to get them both out. But he had to trust his daughter, trust that his eyes weren’t playing tricks, that Lily really…

            “Daddy, I want—I want to do it,” Lily rasped out. “Please, let me.”

            Harry let his tears fall, and he leaned forwards enough to kiss Lily’s forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.

            “Love you too,” Lily whispered.

            “Then you’ve made your choice?” Voldemort called, watching with laughing red eyes and a cruel smirk.

            Almost too fast for Harry to see, Lily whipped around, and she raised her hands. The Death Eaters went flying back, and even Voldemort was knocked back a step.

            Lily’s wand appeared in her hand. “I have!” She flicked it behind her, and Harry’s bonds fell away. Before he or anyone else could move, Lily raised her wand again.

            “Expecto Patronum!”

            A stag leapt from her wand and began to chase the Dementors.

            “Now as for you…” Lily turned her wand on Voldemort. “Don’t fuck with my family, Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

            Voldemort snarled and shot a bolt of blackness at Lily. But Lily parried it, and she shouted “NOW!”

            And suddenly the clearing was full of people, Hermione and Luna and Ron leading the charge. Harry shook himself out of his stupor, torn between helping his daughter and—

            And then Annabelle raised her wand and pointed it at Lily, and Harry snapped.

            His wand wasn’t in his pocket—they weren’t that stupid—but Harry didn’t need a wand to tackle the witch before she could cast a curse. They tumbled for a moment, both trying to get the upper hand, but Harry snatched her wand at last and stunned her. Her wife was nowhere to be seen, and Harry Summoned his wand with a thought. When it landed in his hand, he looked around, the world slowing down just a bit as he tried to figure out what to do.

            Lily and Voldemort were locked in a fierce duel, magic making the air glow around them as they slashed their wands through the air, multicoloured lights attacking and defending. The other Death Eaters were surrounded by his friends, and Harry moved to join them when he heard a horrible scream.

            Marina was twenty feet away from him, looking at her wife, face twisted with fury. Then her eyes turned to Harry, and she screamed again.

            It was a call, and that was the last thing Harry could process before the Dementors swarmed him.

            The darkness was absolute, but the feeling wasn’t quite. They were young Dementors, after all, and Harry could still breathe in the chill, could still remember where he was, feel the earth under his feet, hear the sounds of battle muffled by the cloaks. But it didn’t stop horrible memories—every horrible thing he could remember—from flashing into his head. His wand was in his hand, and he could try to cast a Patronus, but it wasn’t working. No, it wasn’t working, and the tallest gripped his chin and turned it up, and Harry shook, too exhausted to even struggle as the Dementor’s mouth came closer…

“Expecto Patronum!”

            A white light that nearly blinded Harry surrounded him in warmth. He could hear the sound of chittering and splashing, and it made him think of books and ink and snow on Christmas Eve…

            The  silvery otter opened its jaws and sucked all the Dementors in, and then it laid down at Harry’s feet.

            “Well done, Mione!” Harry shouted.

            A high-pitched shriek of fury sounded behind him, and Harry spun. Lily and Voldemort were still duelling, and Lily…Lily had Voldemort backed against a tree, a cloud of birds surrounding him.

            “You little bitch!”

            “That’s ‘Potter bitch’ to you,” Lily snapped. “And I’m bored. Expelliarmus!”

            Voldemort’s wand sailed towards her, and Lily held both on him. “You’re done,” she snarled. “You lost. _Stupefy!”_

            Voldemort fell unconscious to Lily’s feet, and she spat on him. “Monster.”

            “Li-lu,” Harry called.

Lily turned, eyes still fierce, and Harry remembered what Death had said. _You’ve never truly seen your daughter challenged._

But then she swayed, and she was Harry’s daughter again. Harry strode towards her and she met him halfway, throwing herself into his arms.

            “Dad, oh _Dad!”_

“You did so well,” Harry whispered into her ear. “So well, my darling. I know you got an O in my class, but I never imagined…”

            “Lavender taught me some techniques when she was visiting in April,” Lily replied. She pulled away, her brown eyes shining. “I got him, Dad. I really got him.”

            “You did. I’m so proud of you, Lily. You saved my life.” Harry kissed her forehead, relieved that he could do so. His daughter had beaten Voldemort, even with the Dementors…

            “Lily, how did you stay so strong with the Dementors?”

            Lily shrugged. “I’m not sure, Dad. That Marina bitch knocked me off my broom and brought me here unconscious. I woke up and there were Dementors everywhere, but I didn’t feel…I didn’t feel the way you and everyone else says it does. But I knew I had to pretend it did, otherwise they’d catch on. I guess I just kept thinking about my stag like it was with me, and the Dementors didn’t seem to notice me. But I noticed the others, and so I made a plan.”

            “Thank goodness,” Harry said fervently. He tied Voldemort up without a thought, and turned to Hermione, whose eyes were bright and hair all rumpled. “Now how in the world did you find us?”

            “Katie and Oliver raised the alarm right away,” Hermione answered. “They flew over on of Angie’s villages, and it got passed through Potterwatch. James and Al made it fine, so I decided that I should come and help. Several of the others agreed.”

            Harry beamed as he looked around. The clearing was free of the terrible fog now; there wasn’t a Dementor in sight. The Death Eaters were all rounded up, and most of them were unconscious in a pile. The only one still resisting was Marina, who was fighting Ron and Mad-Eye tooth and nail, even tied up.

            “Give it up!” Ron shouted. “You’re only making this worse on yourself.”

            “Blood traitor scum!” Marina screamed, eyes wild with hate. “You bred with a Mud—”

            There was a bang, and Marina collapsed.

            “That’s enough of that,” Ron said calmly. He met Harry’s eyes and grinned in relief. “Good to see you, mate. I think we need to have a family reunion, don’t we?”

            ***

            They didn’t fly back to the Ministry, after all. The coast was clear—both living and Returned Death Eaters were taken care of. Draco Malfoy showed up to take the living to prison. Marina woke just in time to be wrenched away from her unconscious wife, screaming obscenities.

            “I’m just going to put them in Holding,” Draco said quickly, Stunning Marina again. “I’ll meet you lot at the Ministry.”

            As for the Returned, Hermione solved that by shoving them all into one of her updated Bags of Holding, specially built to hold oxygen—needing creatures.

            No, flying back would take too long, and Harry needed to see this through, needed to see it _end_. So he created a Portkey from his Firebolt, and everyone gathered around.

            The next moment they were in the room with the Veil. The others were all there, including the ones who’d stayed at Grimmauld Place. Nicky and Cedric were busily drawing runes over the dais in thick glowing lines that faded in an instant. James and Al came running, and so did Ginny, and Harry and Lily hugged them all tight.

            “Lily defeated Voldemort,” Harry said the moment he could speak. “She did brilliantly. And Mione cast a full Patronus!”

            Ginny had tears in her eyes as she kissed Harry, and then hugged her daughter close. “I’m so proud—thank Merlin we all made it back.” Then her expression changed. “Well, I suppose not all of us.”

            Harry glanced over her shoulder and saw Lucius Malfoy holding his wife’s hand. Scorpius and Astoria stood close by.

            “I believe we should begin.”

            Death stood on the dais. Startled, Nicky slid backwards; Cedric caught her before she fell off the dais.

            “Apologies, Ms. Weasley.” Death seemed more relaxed than before, as their eyes swept over the pile of Death Eaters. “Well done, all of you. The souls taken by the juvenile Dementors will be returned to their owners; they have sustained no damage.”

            Harry just nodded, suddenly overwhelmed as he looked at his family. They were going back soon, he realized—the moment that his kids got the runes working, the dead would return to the afterlife. It was easy to focus on the evil being tossed back where it belonged, but…

_I don’t want to say goodbye like this._

            “Er…Death?” Al asked.

Death inclined their head.

            “I know…I know everyone has to go back. But is there any way that it could be delayed just a little bit?”

            “Why?”

            “Well…” Al took Scorpius’ hand. “It would be wonderful if they could stay long enough to see us married. That would mean a lot.”

            “We could have one more event as a family,” Scorpius said quietly, glancing at his grandfather.

            Death smiled slowly. “I think that is a reasonable request. After all, your grandfather did make a promise. I don’t want to be the reason he breaks it.”

            Al beamed at his family. “Then we can get married tomorrow, and everyone can come!” He glared at the pile of Death Eaters. “Not you lot. You’re garbage.”

“So what do we do to make sure they don’t go through by accident?” Harry asked apprehensively.

            “Don’t worry, Harry. This is my business, after all. James, Albus, Lily?”

            Harry watched as his sons and daughter moved towards the dais. Nicky and Cedric stepped off, and so did Death.

            The three of them formed a triangle with the Veil between them, and Harry’s eyes went wide. His suspicions were confirmed when he craned his neck; the Runes formed a circle, encompassing his children. The Deathly Hallows.

             James cleared his throat.

            “Lily, you just need to repeat what Al and I say, alright? And when all of the runes are lit, we need to cast _Alohamora,_ and then we wait for the souls to go through. When they’ve all come back, Death will give us the signal, and then we cast _Colloportus.”_

Lily’s eyes widened. “That’s it? All of this—just for that?”

            “No, it’s much more complicated and links to blood and runic history and death magic,” Al replied without a trace of sarcasm. “But we have all of that. Right Fee?”

            Harry started; he hadn’t seen Fiona in the shadows, holding Molly’s hand. That was normal though; for someone with Banshee heritage, Fiona moved quietly. Her face was relaxed for the first time in days despite all the magic in the room. Despite _Death_ being in the room.

            “Yes, Al,” Fiona answered. “You three hold the key to sealing this from what broke it before. It may be a thousand years before a way to break it once more will be found.”

            “You said will?” Harry said sharply.

            “Of course,” Fiona answered. Her large silver eyes met his. “Wizards have always feared Death, and they will continue to fight against it until the end of time.”

            “So this has happened before,” Harry said slowly.

            “By the ones who fashioned the Hallows,” Death confirmed. “Nearly a thousand years ago, although they only came to explore, not to break. But don’t fret—there will always be someone to close the door. I understand that now. And who knows? Perhaps this time will make the lesson stick longer.”

            Harry couldn’t help but shudder at Death’s tone. It held a grim promise, that someday there would be another who felt the repercussions of that anger.

            Then Death’s expression cleared. “But by that time, there will be others to take up the fight. This isn’t something you will worry about.”

            And for some reason, Harry believed that. He nodded to his children. “Go on, then.”

            James cleared his throat and started to speak, but it was in no language Harry had ever heard. It sounded at once like the roar of wind over the ocean, and the whistling wind over mountains. When he finished speaking, Al repeated those strange, terrible, beautiful sounds.

            The runes were starting to glow a soft gold, and Harry panicked—would Lily be able to say that correctly without practice? What would happen to the ritual if she didn’t?

            But Lily opened her mouth, and the sounds came out perfectly. The moment she stopped speaking, the runes flashed brightly, and a mist of soft gray began to fill the circle, surrounding the Veil.

            James held out his wand and pointed it at the Veil. Lily and Albus copied him. Harry saw them look at each other and nod.

            “Alohamora!”

            The room exploded with light, and Ginny buried her face in Harry’s shoulder. Harry could watch squinting, and what he saw astounded him.

            Dozens of balls of glowing, iridescent light began to float into the room. They swirled around James and Al and Lily, slowly revolving around each other. Several balls rose from the Death Eaters, but they were opaque and sparking. Furious.

            Harry saw Peter Pettigrew raise his hand, and then he transformed into a ball of light as well. He wasn’t sparking like the other Death Eaters, and seemed to float more slowly, outside the circle of the others. Harry saw Al turn to him and say something, but he couldn’t see what. Whatever he’d said, Peter Pettigrew’s soul grew a little bit brighter.

            Because that’s what they were, of course, souls, out of bodies, out of memories…people who’d made the choice to cross over, who’d been waiting for this moment.

            And with a crack that nearly deafened Harry and made several of the others cry out, the stones of the dais _grew_ , shaping themselves from the crumbling remnants back into the same veil that Harry used to loathe so deeply. Now though, there was no real sense of loss as the souls passed through the Veil one by one, each one shining more brightly for a flash of a moment before they went through the Veil. Each soul went through, even though some were reluctant. All it took was a nudge from another, and they went through. The last one was a mangled, deformed lump, and Harry let his shoulders drop with relief when Voldemort passed back into death, where he belonged.

            The mist came up around his children, and Harry nearly lost sight of them before Death nodded.

            _“Colloportus!”_

And the mist vanished, the lights went out, and when Harry could focus properly on the dais again, there it was. The Veil swayed, surrounded by the glowing runes, and grew longer as the runes faded.  The three figures surrounding it stood perfectly still, and the shadows surrounded them like cloaks, hiding their faces. But that passed, and in a moment it was just his children standing there, wands still raised.

            “It is done,” Death declared. “The doorways have been restored.”

There was a moment of silence, much like one Harry remembered from the end of the Battle of Hogwarts, so many years ago…and then there was a roar of delight from everyone assembled. Everyone was laughing and crying, hugging each other, and Luna was actually dancing with Rolf in pure delight. Harry let the happiness become a blur as he lost track of who he was holding, who was laughing in his ear, who was shouting with delight and relief…well, that was likely him.

When everyone had calmed down a bit, they were still all standing together, and Harry looked at Death. “Thank you.”

            “Thank you, Harry. I hope you all enjoy the wedding.”

            “So—hold on, love, how do we do this?” Scorpius looked at Al, anxiety mounting in his eyes. “We don’t have a plan, not really. I suppose we could get married at your house—”

            “Oh, don’t worry about that.” Harry grinned at Draco. “We’ve got a plan for you.”

            “You do?” Al frowned. “Why do you have a plan?”

            “Because we know our sons,” Draco replied gently. “and we knew that you have bigger journeys on your minds. And if we could give you a moment of peace on that journey, that would be important.”

            Al shrugged. “Alright. How…how long do we have?” he looked at Death.

“I can give you until midnight tomorrow,” Death answered. “And I can ensure that there is no need for you to sleep. I promise.”

            “We can pull that off,” Dad said with a grin. “Honestly it’ll take…what, three hours, Draco?”

            “Maybe less, since we’re going with the late spring plan.”

            “How many plans did you have?”

            Dad grinned. “You can have our plans tomorrow.”

            Death raised their hands. “I will send you home now. Spend the time you need to speak to each other; give yourselves time for a goodbye. I will see you tomorrow evening. Thank you; all of you.” They vanished.

            “Well,” Harry said, breaking the silence. “Let’s go home. It sounds like we’ve got a lot to talk about.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, these conversations are going to be a different story. I will start to publish them once this story is done. There'll be more details then, but if anyone has any particular requests, let me know and I can make it happen!  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	25. Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Scorbus wedding happens, and it is a wonderful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Al is a mapmaker by trade, and Scorpius is the professor of Herbology. This is a huge part of the puns to come. And yes, they are incredibly stupid :)

Putting on a wedding in less than six hours would have been a bigger challenge if Harry and Draco hadn’t worked so hard on their plan for the last three years. As it was, by two o’clock the next day everyone was setting up the finishing touches on the decorations—invitations were out, the guests were on their way, and the food was ready. Ron’s cake towered over the table; it would be a feast to remember.

            That said a lot, considering that the feast took place on the Hogwarts grounds.

            Just a two minute walk from the greenhouse, overlooking the lake, a huge circle of chairs were set up, with two aisles leading to a centrepiece. It would be hard to miss, but just in case each wedding invitation was a map, leading through all the important memories in Albus and Scorpius’ relationship straight to this moment, on the grounds where the wounds of the war were finally covered with plants tended with loving care by Neville, and now Scorpius. The fields of flowers were happy to give some of their blossoms, and those bouquets hung around the centrepiece, interspersed with bright bundles of fireworks.

            The rest of the decorations were provided by the groom’s fathers.  An ostentation of peacocks, including Jamie and Abby’s Claudette, walked around majestically, and carefully knitted and crocheted favours hung on each chair; compasses, plants, and prank supplies in every shade of wool Harry had ever bought. There were more chairs than they’d planned originally—of course the students were coming to see their Herbology Professor married, but the Returned had places of honour as well. It threw off the symmetry just a bit, and Harry couldn’t have cared less.

            The attendants were already waiting at the centrepiece as the guests started to come in. Rose, looking stunning in a ultramarine Muggle suit, stood on Scorpius’ side as best lady. Lou, Jamie, and Lucius Malfoy stood with her, in dress robes of the same colour. On the other side Lily Luna stood in a soft yellow dress with Mad-Eye the ferret perched on her shoulder. Nicky, Freddie, and Hugo stood for Al too, and they had the same yellow shirts and slightly darker yellow trousers. Their red hair clashed magnificently with the colour. Harry thought they looked wonderful.

            Originally there was such a fuss over who would be attendants at the wedding—after all, all the cousins were very close, and both Scorpius and Al were having trouble choosing. To solve that problem, Ron suggested they draw lots for the roles in the wedding. “Otherwise the poor sod that’s marrying you is going to be swarmed with all you savages.”

            That poor sod was Neville (who’d insisted on doing it), who was currently leading the students across the lawn, a huge group of mismatched colours and laughing kids. Harry was relieved to see that they were all recovering well from the drama; but then, hadn’t he flown over the Quidditch pitch with utter joy the day after the Battle? The world was safe again for now, and today was a happy day. That was enough for now.

            Ginny and Tori were with the grooms in different tents, so Harry stood with Draco, supervising as Roxy and Nat sat down and adjusted Kitty’s flower girl dress, Molly, Lucy, and Victoire helped people into their seats, and Bert discussed the photos with Colin and Dennis Creevey. It was the first time Dennis had photographed people in a long time, but Harry wasn’t worried. The pictures would be wonderful.

            His throat went tight as he looked at the people in the first row of each section. His parents were there, and Remus and Tonks, and Sirius. Sirius, who’d spent twenty minutes being scolded by Mrs. Weasley for not telling her straight away that he was dating Gideon, followed by a firm embrace and “I’m so happy for you, brother.” Sirius cried when she said that. Now he was beaming, sitting between Gideon Prewett (who looked so much like Ron) and Amelia Bones, who was currently chatting with Susan, while Cedric was chatting with Ernie. Indeed, all the Returned were having conversations with the living. There were a few new people there who’d arrived at Grimmauld Place just that morning. Ted Tonks sat beside Andromeda, Florean Fortescue was meeting his several grandchildren, and Aberforth Dumbledore sat close to his brother. He’d nearly been knocked down by Scorpius and Al’s enthusiastic hugs when he showed up, announcing gruffly that he’d gotten an invitation and damn it, he was going to be there.

            Even Snape was there, at Al’s insistence. “He’s Scorpius’ God-Grandfather, Dad. And he was here. He can stay if he’s quiet.”

            Harry’s smile dimmed just a bit as his eyes fell on other unexpected guests.

            The Anti-Muggle protections had been lifted so that Dudley, Leo, and Iris could attend, obviously. They were family, and if Harry had guessed right about the small box in Iris’ handbag, they’d be doing this sort of event again soon.

            He hadn’t quite expected Petunia and Vernon to come too.

            His aunt and uncle sat on the periphery, far back from their son and granddaughter and from Harry’s parents. They weren’t speaking to anyone, but Iris was giving them encouraging smiles every once in a while. Vernon looked like the effort of not making a fuss was exhausting him, and Petunia just looked bemused by the crowd of magic around her, but she didn’t look frightened or hateful. Harry knew he wasn’t the only one keeping an eye on them, and they’d actually give him their word they wouldn’t cause any problems.

            “This is an important day,” Petunia told him quietly. “And Iris needs to know we’re trying. So does Dudley…and so do you.”

            Vernon had actually shaken Harry’s hand, and passed him gifts for Al and Scorpius. Harry had taken a look inside (just to be sure), and gotten a lump in his throat.

            “We did you wrong,” Vernon said bluntly. “And making sure we do right by Iris means that we need to start making up for that.”

            It would never be perfect, Harry knew. They would make mistakes, they wouldn’t talk to all of the kids, they would have a hard time in the wizarding world. But this kind of civility, of real _thoughtfulness_ , was more than Harry had ever dreamed. Maybe miracles did happen.

            Then again, it was Mum who’d brought them all there an hour ago. So perhaps they’d gotten a bit of a nudge.

            Whatever the reason, no one here was going to spoil his son’s wedding day, and considering the wide range of guests, from the very young to a centenary (Minerva McGonagall insisted on being there despite her rheumatism acting up—Fiona helped her choose a chair like hers), from the dead to the unborn, from students to teachers, families to former enemies…that was wonderful.

            It was nearly three o’clock, and Harry straightened and walked to the centrepiece with Draco. All of the guests were sitting now, and Harry shielded his eyes, looking towards the tent where Al and Ginny were preparing. Ginny was no doubt wrapping up her motherly advice talk for the last time before their son was married.

            Harry had his talk with Al that morning before anyone else was stirring. They were always the first two up in the family, and even the Returned were still resting when he met Al at the breakfast table.

            Harry had opened his mouth—he had all sorts of platitudes ready, fatherly advice on marriage that he’d saved for that moment—but suddenly he was lost for words. It had hit him that this was his little boy, his youngest boy. And he was all grown up now and going to be married, going to be starting a real life with Scorpius.

            Harry had finally found his voice. “I love you, Al. And no matter what, I will always be there for you when you need me. I don’t care how old you are or how married, if you’re a father or far away…you will always be able to talk to me.”

            Al had flung himself into Harry’s arms. “I love you too, Dad. Thank you for everything you’ve taught me about love. I’m really glad that I’m your son.”

            “And I am proud to be your father.”

            Harry swallowed hard, just from the memory. James’ wedding day had been emotional too, but it was a different way. That was the first time, the time when he’d been so scared of doing it wrong. That talk was full of promises too, but they were promises in the face of uncertainty and joy, of wondering if he’d done enough for Jamie to be ready.

            He looked at James now, who was glancing at Abby every so often, eyes full, and thought he might have done enough.

            “It’s hard to believe we’ve made it here, isn’t it?” Draco said gruffly.

            Harry looked over. “You know, I always thought it would be more difficult. I thought we might fuck it up for them somehow. But they’ve always known the way, haven’t they? All we had to do was help them along the road.”

            “Is your entire wedding toast going to be that sort of pun?”

            “They’re certainly growing on me.”

            Draco groaned and shoved Harry’s arm. But then he smiled. “I suppose…I suppose you’ve grown on me too, Harry.”

            Harry smiled back.

            Two bells chimed from either side of the circle, and Neville motioned to the crowd to stand. “The grooms are coming!” He called.

            A song that Victoire had composed only a few months ago began to play. It was bright and strong; it made you believe in the rightness of the moment.

            Ginny and Al were walking down one of the aisles, both dressed in yellow—Ginny in a sundress, Al in a suit with an ultramarine tie. Kitty walked in front of them, throwing roses. And then Harry turned his head, and Scorpius was coming from the opposite direction with Tori. They had ultramarine outfits, both in stylish suits designed by Rita Scamander-Weasley-Dwayne (or RSWD), and Scorpius had a bright yellow tie. Estelle was more serious than her cousin, carefully strewing handfuls of lilies.

Kitty and Estelle reached the centrepiece together, and they scattered a few handfuls around the centrepiece. Then Estelle picked up Kitty, and they both put their baskets on top of the centrepiece.

            The music began to fade as Al reached Harry and Scorpius reached Draco. Ginny kissed Al gently, and Al wrapped her in a tight hug as Scorpius did the same with his mum. Ginny gently let go of Albus and went to sit with Lily, smiling even with tears in her eyes. Astoria joined her. Mothers of the grooms.

            “We have seen these men guided here by their mothers,” Neville said. He’d finally learnt the trick of public speaking, and his voice echoed across the crowd. “Who will begin the ceremony?”

            “We will,” Harry and Draco said together. Harry gave Al one last, tight hug and then helped him up the step of the centrepiece to stand in front of Neville and Scorpius, who was hanging on to his father’s hand. As one, Harry and Draco placed their son’s hands together, and Al and Scorpius joined their other hands.

            Harry and Draco, their job finished, went to join their wives to watch their sons get married.

            “I am going to say very little today,” Neville said. “I want to congratulate these men, who I’ve watched grow up and grow into love with each other, in making it to this moment, on this very special day. Your love story has been a pleasure to observe, and it goes to show us all that the ways we find love might be unpredictable, but they will still lead you home.”

            Harry wiped his eyes, partly to hide his grin. He wasn’t the only one to include puns in his speech, then.

            “Scorpius and Al have written vows for me to ask,” Neville continued, “so know that these words are not my own. I don’t want to be accused of plagiarism.”

            That got a laugh.

            “Scorpius, do you take Al for the journey of your life, ready to face missed turns, glorious discoveries, and uncharted territory together?”

            “Are you _serious?!”_ Jamie shouted.

            “No, that’s me!” Sirius called from the audience.

            Everyone started to laugh, even Scorpius as he held Al’s hands. “Absolutely, I do,” he promised. “I’m so glad we did the same thing.”

            “Wait, did you—” Al started.

            “Albus,” Neville interrupted. “Do you take Scorpius to plant your life, to weed and plant and harvest together?”

            Harry was bent double, shaking with laughter. Ginny was crying and giggling into Astoria’s shoulder. Draco was trying very hard to look fed up, but he couldn’t quite contain his grin.

            “I do,” Al shouted over the commotion. He brought Scorpius’ hands to his mouth and kissed them. “I love you so much, Scorp. Forever.”

            Neville held out his hands, a ring in each one. “Then show your pledge with these rings.”

            The hilarity in the crowd softened as Al took the first ring, silver woven with gold around a sapphire. “I pledge my life to you, Scorpius,” he promised as he slid the ring on. “You have my heart and soul for as long as there is anything of me that exists.”

            Scorpius took the other ring, identical in every aspect, and took Al’s hand. “I pledge my life to you, Albus. I am yours, and you are mine, and that bond will not be broken.” He kissed Al’s hand.

            Now there were tears in Harry’s eyes for a different reason. Ginny took his hand, and Harry squeezed hers, tracing his hand over her wedding ring.

            “By the power invested in me by the Wizenagamot, and by the honour of your choice,” Neville said, and his eyes were wet, “I declare this union complete, and name you husbands. You may kiss each other.”

            Given their usual exuberant displays, Harry was surprised by the kiss. Scorpius drew Al towards him and held his husband’s face between his hands as they kissed tenderly, softly. Like they had the rest of their lives for more moments, and this kiss could be gentle. They could take their time.

            It wasn’t until they stopped kissing and rested their foreheads together that Rose threw her hands in the air. “Here’s to Al and Scorpius Malfoy!”

            Harry had known that was coming, but judging by Draco and Astoria’s expressions, they hadn’t. Draco clapped with a dazed look on his face, and Astoria hugged Ginny fiercely.

            Then everyone was getting up, and the music was swelling, and Harry actually reached the newlyweds first and hugged them both, and then they were essentially being passed about for hugs as the crowd moved forward, and behind them the chairs were changing, flying around to settle behind new tables, the food landing elegantly on each one.

            “Snacks!” Al shouted in delight. “Merlin, I’m starving!”

            Harry laughed. “I knew you would be,” he called to his son. “Alright everyone, tuck in!”

            It was an odd time of day to be eating, but you wouldn’t know it from the amount everyone consumed. People moved from table to table (why have static place settings at a gathering like this?), talking and laughing. Dobby, Winky and Kreacher had worked on a great deal of the food, so everything was brilliant, and everyone had something they loved.

            Harry was tired, and so he mostly stayed put at one table with Ginny and Draco and Astoria.

            “I didn’t realize Al was going to take the Malfoy name,” Draco mentioned as they tucked into fruit (“yes you’re all having fruit before cake!” was Ron’s decree). He pressed his lips together. “That…that says quite a lot.”

            “He offered,” Harry said. “Potter will still be in his name, but it’ll be more of a middle name now. He said he wanted to show that he was Scorpius’ husband in every possible way.”

            “He’s a good lad,” Draco said, sounding choked up. “I’m proud that he’ll carry on the name. It’s high time for the long line of rotten to be broken.”

            “It was broken before Scorp was born,” Ginny retorted. “Don’t be silly, Draco. Come on, let’s go say hello to my uncle Gideon before the cake starts coming around.”

            The cake did come around, chocolate with strawberry icing with Ron’s secret ingredient (apple cider vinegar if you’re curious), and there was enough that nearly everyone had seconds. Well, everyone except Kitty and Jean-Georges, who were both stubborn enough to finish the small pieces Roxy cut for them, before promptly starting to dash about, nearly tripping Snape and nearly tripping over Fiona’s chair. They were then picked up by Nat and Rita, and after a bit of fussing consented to sit still.

            The sound of a bell ringing drew everyone’s attention. Rose and Lily were standing on one of the tables with their glasses raised.

            “Alright, everyone! It’s time for the best ladies’ toast!” Lily glared at Scorpius and Al. “We’re not going to do as many puns as the grooms, since they _stole some of ours_ …”

            “We didn’t steal anything!” Al shouted back.

            “Sure you didn’t,” Rose chided. “Now, we’re going to make this nice and short, because I know the grooms are excited to have their first dance—by the way, dancing at this wedding is mandatory, you have to at least dance to one song. Not sure if that made it onto the invites. In our defense, we wrote them all this morning.”

            “But we’ve been working on our speeches since we found out you two got engaged, so that’s much better,” Lily added. She cleared her throat. “Well, we were going to do something funny and on the fun side of risqué, but then we realized that you do that often enough yourselves.”

            “So we wanted to say something that hasn’t been said before,” Rose said. “All those comparisons to starcrossed lovers, to the redemption of the past, to the irony of love…but that’s not what we saw.”

            “Not at all,” Lily agreed. “I saw my brother and his best friend come together and build happiness together.”

            “I just appreciated that they didn’t make me feel like a third wheel,” Rose said. “That’s always appreciated, isn’t it Uncle Harry?”

            Harry gave Rose a thumbs up. Ron and Hermione glared at him.

            “But honestly…” Rose paused. “Honestly, it didn’t feel like we were witnessing anything grand. It looked so natural; the two of you just fit together. You belonged. And that’s more wonderful than anything else. Al, you’re my cousin, and my partner in crime. And I never had to worry about you, never had to worry that you would be misunderstood or lonely. You always had Scorpius, and I’m so happy that you’re married. I think you’re going to go on to great things together, and I look forward to every minute. And I claim godmother for at least one of your children.”

            “Promise,” Al called. He was holding Scorpius’ hand, and his green eyes were sparkling in the late afternoon sun. Rose blew them a kiss.

Lily opened her mouth, but she sobbed and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she gasped. “I—I can’t remember my part anymore. I know I wrote—wrote that I was so glad you were building a future together, and that we all got to come and see the start. And so many more people got to come than I ever dreamed, and this is—this is everything I wanted for you, Al.” Lily took a deep breath. “When we were little, we talked about what we wanted most. And you always said you wanted—you wanted someone to love like Dad loves Mum, and you would love them back the same. You said that was the best way to be good. And you have that, Al. I’m so pleased.”

            Harry drew Ginny towards him.

            Lily gulped and pushed her hair out of her face. “Scorpius, I couldn’t have chosen anyone better for my brother, so thanks for making it so I didn’t have to try. You’ve always been family, but today you’ve made a choice to start a family together, and I’m excited to be a part of that story. Well, now that I’ve made a bit of a spectacle, all I can say in the end is that we should toast the Malfoys for their life and love, and may their journey be fruitful!”

            Harry raised his glass with the rest, his throat tight. Al and Scorpius got up and headed for their best ladies. Lily hopped down into Al’s arms the same way she’d done since she was three years old, and Scorpius dipped Rose down elegantly.

            “Alright!” Rose shouted once she was upright again. “Now it’s time for the first dance, so grooms, over there!” She threw her arm out and a light shone on the grass.

            “Everyone is going to twist their ankles,” Ron muttered.

            “Neville got the plants to cooperate. It won’t be that bad, Ron.” Harry’s lips twitched. “I do hope they like the song. It was Draco’s idea.”

            Scorpius and Al stood in the centre of the light, their arms around each other. Rose waved her wand, and music started to play.

            _Look out new world here we come,_

_Brave, intrepid, and then some…_

“Oh come off it!” Al shouted. “This song is way too fast, I can’t—”

            Scorpius spun him around. “Don’t be silly, Al. I’ll guide you.”

            Harry laughed. They’d sorted out a way to play Muggle films for the kids years ago, and _The Road to El Dorado_ was always Scorpius and Al’s favourite. They’d actually dressed up as Tulio and Miguel twice, once when they were six, and once when they were sixteen.

            “I’m surprised you didn’t choose the love song,” Harry mentioned to Draco.

            “Scorpius played this song every single day at least once after Arthur gave him that music player. For _six months_.” Draco shrugged as he watched their sons dance, more or less successfully. “It seems like a good one for where they are.”

            And Harry, watching them spin while Al tried not to trip and Scorpius just picked him up and raised him in the air, had to agree. They were indeed ready to blaze a trail together, and Harry was grateful they were ready and willing. They had that and they had love, and they were going to change the world, make names for themselves and teach a whole new generation.

            But not tonight. Tonight was for the two of them, and their families, and a celebration of this new chapter of their story.

            Soon enough, the song wound down, and Harry offered his hand to Ginny. “Come on, darling,” he said as he pulled her to her feet. “If we’re going to dance the night away, we’d better get started.”

           

            From that point on, the night took on a dreamlike quality. It was clear as crystal, and everyone present could remember everything down to tiny details for years to come. But everything felt just a touch surreal, magic in its own right.

            It was wonderful that Harry got to dance with his mother right after he danced with his son, that everyone came onto the dance floor and all participated in the Cha Cha Slide (that was Iris Dursley’s request, and it was a fantastic idea). It was incredible to move through the crowd of tables when they tired of dancing and they could look around and see every face, every face that had ever belonged (along with a few who were surprising). It was brilliant to sit Al and Scorpius down to open their presents, and to see them exclaim over presents hurriedly purchased by the deceased but were so thoughtful, like Dad’s gift of a wild variety of seeds, Sirius and Arthur passing on a set of flying motorbikes (Sirius helped with the tweaking of the Invisibility Boosters), and Dobby’s proud pile of dozens of pairs of socks. And when they got to Vernon and Petunia’s gifts, Harry beamed, because they were two books—one on Muggle gardening, and one on geocaching.

            “It’s been a trend for a while,” Vernon explained. “People seem to have a lot of fun, although I suppose it won’t be as hard with magic.”

            But Al smiled at him, wonder of wonders. “Thank you. I’ll do it the Muggle way, I promise. Maybe Iris could come with us; it’s important to bond with future cousins-in-law.”

            And then Lucy started shouting at Scorpius and Al for pre-empting her surprise, before flouncing down dramatically on one knee and, holding out a ridiculously bright ring, asking Iris if she wanted to “keep this madcap adventure going,” and Iris went down beside her and offered a ring of her own with a “only if you mow the lawn.”. And there was another set of cheers, and once Lucy had calmed down, she apologized for proposing at someone else’s wedding, but Scorpius told her that there was enough love to go around. And when Harry hugged Dudley and Leo, he saw Petunia and Vernon standing hand in hand, chatting quietly with Lucy, no malice or fear in their eyes. Maybe Scorpius would be proved right.

            By the time the moon was high in the sky and the kids had started to fall asleep together on the chairs, some of the students were starting to head back into the castle. Harry was full and sleepy, and he drifted into conversations with the others, chatting about silly, mundane things like the current state of wizard chessboards and plans for summer holidays.

            Eventually, though, the night had to wind down. Dobby insisted on cleaning up by himself, and gradually the wedding circle reordered itself around the guests, giving people plenty of time to adjust to standing up, leaning on each other, reassembling into family groups.

            And then it was time—Harry felt the air shift, and knew that Death was calling the Returned back. He’d said all he could the day before, and now, in the most dreamlike state, he exchanged hugs and “I love yous,” letting forgiveness rule the day. The only hand he shook was Severus Snape’s—he had a godson that would hug him, and in the end that was the best way.

            Harry couldn’t quite pinpoint the moment everyone left, because it happened so gradually…voices fading, faces missing from the crowd, one last embrace from his mother…

            And then they were gone, Lucius Malfoy with them, and Scorpius hugged his family tight for a long, long moment before he turned back to Al.

            “I’m ready, love,” he said. “Time to go?”

            And Al smiled and held his husband close as Ron handed them the first of four Portkeys. They would take the newlyweds on a month-long honeymoon; one week in each of four different luxury Muggle hotels in different parts of the world. Harry wasn’t sure himself where they were going; Ron had kept that a secret. “Godfather’s privilege,” he’d claimed, and Harry had allowed it. Ron knew Al and Scorpius as well as his own children, and it would be a wonderful journey.

            (And no one, least of all Ron, was surprised to hear at the end of that month that they were going to stay an extra fortnight at the last hotel. After all, he was the one who’d booked three weeks there—he knew Scorpius would love the sun, and Al would love the spa).

            Harry was sure that tomorrow there would be melancholy feelings, and there would be more silence in the house than there’d been, and there was rebuilding to do, and the consequences of the tearing of the Veil to deal with…they had work to do.

            But tonight it was enough to wave his son off on his honeymoon, and bring his daughter and wife home, and slip into clean pajamas and clean sheets and go to sleep.

            That was reward enough for putting on a wedding.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that was the longest wedding chapter I've ever written--fitting for this story, which is the longest continuous work in the Fading Scars series.   
> Al and Scorpius' wedding song is "The Trail We Blaze" from the Road to El Dorado. It is a brilliant song, and I love it dearly.   
> The epilogue will be up in three days, wherein we welcome a new member of this marvelous, mad clan.   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


	26. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six months later, a new child comes into the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we go, the last chapter of this fic! But not the last of this story...

            Harry all but dashed through St. Mungo’s, holding Ginny’s hand tightly. He couldn’t stop smiling, and neither could his wife.

            When they got to the room Ginny cheered. “Yes, we got here first!”

            Well, first other than Fleur and Lily Luna of course, who’d come to help Abby and James welcome their new baby into the world.

            Abby lay in the bed, her hair streaked with sweat, pulled back from her face with a messy bun on top of her head. James sat beside her, holding her hand. Fleur was there, rocking slowly in a chair, and Lily Luna was washing up by the sink.

            The baby was nowhere to be seen.

            “Where’s—” Harry’s heart sank. No, it couldn’t be, it just couldn’t—

            But then James smiled, and Harry relaxed.

            “Baby’s in the other room,” he said quietly. “They needed to do the gender thing.”

            “Right, of course,” Ginny said, relieved.

            It was a new experiment for newborns; the last thirty years had shown a tremendous leap in wizarding understanding of gender. There’d always been a spell to tell the baby’s sex while still in the womb, but this spell should (if it worked properly) be able to tell the gender identity of the baby. They’d only been going on for about a year, so it wasn’t quite sure if it would work, but the spell worked on grownups who defined their gender identity, whatever it was. Lou was delighted that their gender-neutrality was clear, and Teddy and Maia both displayed genderfluidity. Whatever their grandchild’s gender, Harry knew they would be loved, but knowing how they would eventually identify could guide the raising.

            Now they just needed a spell to tell sexuality, but considering the fact that not a single Weasley cousin of their generation was straight (and several of the parents weren’t straight either), the betting was reasonable that this child wouldn’t be either.

            The door on the other end of the room opened, and Hannah Abbot walked in, carrying a small bundle wrapped in the blanket Harry had knitted.

            “You’ve got yourselves a girl,” Hannah said in a soft voice. “Congratulations.”

            Harry moved towards the bed as if in a dream. Jamie and Abby both looked exhausted—Abby had gone into labour seventeen hours before. But both their faces lit up as Hannah passed them their baby daughter.

            Ginny conjured a large chair, and she and Harry sat in it. Harry leaned forward to get a good look at the tiny baby; his fourth grandchild, his son’s firstborn.

            She was a large baby, bigger than any of his kids at birth. Her face had the same oval shape as James, and the bit of fuzz on her head looked like Abby’s colour. And when the baby opened her eyes, Harry gasped.

            She had his eyes.

            “I couldn’t believe it,” Jamie said, holding his daughter’s tiny fingers. “I didn’t realize she’d get green eyes; we’ve both got blue. But she’s…she’s so beautiful, isn’t she?”

            “Darling, she’s lovely.” Ginny smiled through her tears. “You’ve both done a fine job. How are you, Abby?”

            “ _Exhausted,_ but the pain wasn’t bad. Tante Fleur has this _stunning_ potion. I hardly felt a thing.” Abby’s fingers trembled as she touched her daughter’s face. “I wouldn’t have cared, though. She’s _worth_ it.”

            “Where’s everyone else?” Lily Luna asked. She was gazing adoringly at her niece.

            “They’re coming. There’s a lot of us, you know. Floo can only take so many.”

            “But you and Mum didn’t Floo.”

            “No, we cycled over.” Harry grinned. “We were in Wales visiting Lavender when we got the call, actually. I can’t believe we still got here first—”

            Then there was the sound of an almighty stampede in the hall.

            “There they are,” Ginny snorted.

            When James and Abby sent word that Abby had gone into labour, everyone had started to move, but they also had to wait. Madam Hannah wasn’t going to let them all in the room; only Fleur as a midwife and Lily Luna as one of the godmothers was going to be allowed (her other partners were godparents by extension). Everyone else had to wait for the summons that the baby was born and healthy, and then they could come.

            Now, however, it sounded like the entirety of their extended family was on the way down the hall, and making no effort to be quiet. At six in the morning.

            Harry flung open the door. “Quiet,” he hissed. “They’re going to throw us all out if we keep acting like savages.”

            That shut up most of the crowd, but they still crammed in, and Harry stepped back to avoid being crushed.

            “Looks like your baby’s got the same habit you do, Jamie,” Nicky said, her red hair actually put up for once. “Always arriving early.”

            Abby smiled as she rocked her daughter. “She’s only two _weeks_ early, you know. That’s not too bad.”

            “Oh, it’s a she, then?”

            “Yes.” Abby passed the baby to James, who held her so that everyone could see.

            “Are we going to sing Circle of Life?” Al asked.

            “Not right now.”

            “But she’s a baby lion!”

            “Later,” James promised as his wife rolled her eyes. “When we have a proper party and Abby’s feeling better.”

            “I’m _fine_ , Jamie.”

            “You’re perfect,” Jamie answered. “But you also just gave birth. You need to rest, and so does Baby.”

            “What’s the baby’s name?” Ron asked. “Or have you decided?”

            Abby grinned. “We have indeed. Jamie, want to do the honours?”

            James nodded and turned towards Harry and Ginny. “Mum, Dad, friends and family, this is Daisy Elvendork Potter.”

            There was a moment of stunned silence, and then, predictably—

            “ELVENDORK?!”

            “It’s unisex!” Jamie said proudly. “And Pop suggested it when he was here. I thought it would be a nice way to honour him.”

            “I suppose it keeps the tradition of having one stupid name per Potter generation,” Al said. He’d been going by Albus a bit more lately, but Al was still his preferred name.

            “What’s wrong with my name?” Harry asked, flummoxed.

            “Not you, I’m talking about _Ginevra.”_

            “Don’t be rude, Al,” Ginny said. She winked at her Mum. “It’s a nickname name, that’s all. And I think Daisy will do just fine.”

            “She could be Daisy Elvie Potter,” Lily Luna suggested.

            (In fact, though none of them knew it then, when Daisy became a professional footballer she went by Elvie Potter almost always, and she loved her middle name).

            “That’s what I thought!” Jamie said. He looked at Harry. “Well, since Abby and I have had a chance to hold her, and so has one of the godmothers…Dad, do you want to hold Daisy?”

            Harry looked at his wife. “You can go first, if you—”

            “Oh Harry, don’t be silly. Go on.”

            Harry took the bundle of blankets from his son as carefully as he could. He’d held dozens of babies by this point—so different from when he was seventeen and unsure how to hold Teddy—but the first time with a newborn was always nerve-wracking. But Daisy Elvendork Potter fit right into his arms. She was looking up at him, her eyes intent, and when Harry offered her his finger she held onto it with a strong grip.

            “Hullo Daisy,” Harry crooned. “I’m your Grandpa, and it’s wonderful to meet you. Welcome to the world, sweetheart. I hope we’ve given you a good one.”

            And as Harry kissed the tiny baby’s head before handing her to his wife, he took a moment to think. This baby was coming into a family that had weathered war and tragedy, from the youngest to the oldest, and they still came out strong. She would have all the wisdom and laughter and love they’d created together, and there would always be a listening ear when she needed it. She would grow up in a world that had learned from the past, and was still developing, working towards a future where everyone had value and everyone could find their place. And there would be work to do, there would always be work to do, but she would have the support of her community and the love of her family, and she would always be able to count on that, no matter what challenges she faced.

            For Daisy and Estelle and Alcmene and Sol and Jean-Georges and Kitty, and all the children still to come, all the children already growing up, all would be well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends. This is actually quite emotional for me; a lot has happened since I started publishing the Fading Scars universe, and even more since I started writing it. Thank you for joining me on the journey so far.   
> So far?   
> Yes indeed, Fading Scars isn't going anywhere!   
> Firstly, the conversations that took place between the repairing of the Veil and the Scorbus wedding will start getting posted a week from today, in no particular order--I currently have about 15 written with a few more planned, but if anyone wants to see anything in particular, let me know!   
> Secondly, there are of course all the Kin & Kith chapters to post, as well as finishing off 'Lay Here In My Arms' and 'Open Wounds'. The hub story is always taking prompts, so either drop me a line at acme146@gmail.com, or message me on tumblr, illuminating-dragons.tumblr.com . However, these stories will likely be a couple months after the conversations are posted, because I'm going to post my next Sherlock story the moment it's complete (and edited).   
> As always, thanks for reading :)   
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
